Near Misses
by Deandra
Summary: Everyone who knew them thought Eomer and Lothiriel would be a good marital match, but fate seemed determined that they not meet. Sometimes fate needs a helping hand. Complete in 9 chapters, posting 1 chapter every other day.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: Slow in coming, but finally eked out. Have had the idea for some time, but the execution wasn't developing so quickly as I would like, and turmoil in the real world seemed determined to interfere. My thanks to Glorybee for her encouragement and corrections, and to Lady Bluejay and Lialathuveril for their input on bridge and ferry matters (it will make sense later).**_

_**I'm a little undecided on the last chapter, so I will be posting a chapter every other day. That will give me time to consider (and make) changes to it before it posts.**_

**Near Misses**

**Chapter 1**

(May, 3019 III)

"We shall see you soon, Eomer, and join you in carrying Theoden King home for burial. Until then, be well, my friend." Imrahil extended his hand, but Eomer drew him into an embrace instead.

After a moment, he murmured fervently, "I can never thank you enough for the rescue of my sister. Whatever my misgivings about her desire to wed Lord Faramir, I cannot be unhappy about a closer connection to you and your family."

Imrahil drew back and smiled. "Nor can I!"

As everyone else seemed ready for departure, the Prince stepped back out of the way to allow others their final farewell with the king before he mounted. The party of Rohirrim made their way slowly down through the city streets, lined with citizens come out to wave a last goodbye to their new friends.

Elessar stepped in beside Imrahil and commented quietly, " 'Tis a pity your daughter could not come for the celebrations. I should like for her to have met Eomer."

A grin tweaked the Prince's mouth and he glanced sideways at his king. "Does your new role as sovereign over Gondor include matchmaking?"

Elessar chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. "Not officially, but I would see my people – and my friend – find joy and happiness now that war is ended. Eomer needs a good woman, both as a wife and as a queen. Surely your daughter would be most appropriate."

Imrahil nodded. "That thought had crossed my mind, as well, but knowing the both of them, it will matter little what we think about it. If they do not reach that same determination, we hope in vain. I am certain neither will allow themselves to be pressured into uniting if they do not find it a desirable union for themselves."

"Well," Elessar acknowledged, "for the moment we may continue to hope, until they definitely choose otherwise. And certainly we may make the introduction so that nature may take its course, if it will. I have no qualms about that! They cannot love if they do not first meet!"

Though Eomer and Lothiriel were equally unaware of this conversation, marriage had entered both their thoughts already, though not specifically with regard to one another.

Eomer knew that it was going to be challenging to find a woman he could love now that he was king, and that he must choose carefully. At least with the renewed relations between Rohan and Gondor, his field of search had increased, though part of him thought his people might prefer a queen from their own lands. But he would not restrict himself in that regard. He would consider all who appealed to him, regardless of their birthplace. If he wished the Mark to prosper, then he must be content in his choice of wife.

For Lothiriel's part, matters were both simpler and more complex. As the daughter of Imrahil, she was somewhat limited in her choices of a husband. Taking up with a stable boy or fisherman would not be well received by the people of Gondor, and she could only hope that someone of the nobility would strike her fancy. At present, of those she knew, she could not say that was so, but she was sure there were a great many she had not met. With the spectre of war hanging over them, she had spent very little time at Minas Tirith in recent years, so possibly there was someone agreeable in the White City. Many rumors had also reached Dol Amroth about the new king of Rohan, and the ladies were much delighted to learn that he was in want of a wife. She was sure there would be those who would wish her to make that match, if she could manage it. She was not opposed to the idea, not yet anyway, but until she met the man, she would not commit herself in any way. She could not fully dictate who she married, but as much as possible she intended to do it on her own terms and not merely those that society foisted upon her.

xxxxx

Lothiriel hastened down the palace steps and fell into her brother's arms the instant he dismounted. "Oh, I have missed you so!" she exclaimed into his shoulder, holding him tightly.

Amrothos smiled as he embraced her. "And I you, dearest. Be assured we are all well."

"But why did Erchirion and Father not return home with you?" she asked, stepping back and giving him a petulant look.

"You know the answer to that already. Erchirion is assisting with guarding the city until they get the great gate replaced, and the new king has much need of Father's counsel as the kingship is restored to its rightful place. I expect he will have to remain several months. Besides, he wishes to accompany King Theoden's body back to Rohan for burial, so it makes no sense for him to come home before then." He eyed her closely, then asked, "And what of you? Are you well now? Father was quite concerned when he learned you were taken ill and unable to join us for the festivities."

"I am fine," Lothiriel assured him, laying a consoling hand on his chest. "The Healers took good care of me and the fever eventually passed. I am just pleased that Alcathir did not catch it from me. It would not do for her to be ill when her babe is so near to coming."

She stepped to his side and took his arm as he handed the reins of his horse to a stable boy. Together they climbed the palace steps, still discussing trivial family news. They had just reached the top when Elphir appeared to welcome his brother home also. As it was time for the noonday meal, they made their way to the dining room and settled around the table to continue talking and reuniting.

"Father is confident that you have matters well in hand here, Elphir. I am afraid you will remain in charge for some time yet while he assists Elessar." Amrothos grinned teasingly at his eldest brother, though he knew Elphir had never minded his duty as the heir.

Ignoring the familiar attempt to nettle him, Elphir entreated, "So, tell us more of our new King. What is he like? Clearly he is a great warrior, but will he be a good ruler, do you think?"

Amrothos nodded, sobering. "Yes, a very good ruler. Already I have witnessed his judgement being passed in some few matters of the kingdom, and they were most just and fair. I do believe this will be a great age for Gondor with him at our helm. And, it turns out, he is not unfamiliar in these parts. Father says he once fought here under Ecthelion, as a soldier called Thorongil."

"Thorongil? Yes, I have heard the name and some of his exploits. It would be interesting to find out this man's history, indeed!" His brother paused momentarily before changing the subject. "And what of you – shall you settle down now and find a wife, or shall you continue to flirt with anything in a skirt?"

Lothiriel laughed. "I cannot wait to meet the woman who can tame our dear brother! She will be most remarkable!"

Amrothos leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms and pouting at the both of them, slightly disgruntled at having the focus of mockery turned upon him. "You make it sound as if I am never serious or sincere! Just because I enjoy the company of ladies, and do not favor one over another, does not mean I am incapable of an attachment. I simply have not met a woman that appeals to me in that way." He smirked at his sister, then redirected the discussion by adding, "And you are one to talk! I do not see you favoring any of your suitors!"

Lothiriel pinked slightly, but retorted, "There are not that many of them, but at least I am considering them, which is more than you are doing!"

Amrothos gave her a sly look. "The new king is unwed…"

"If the new king was Thorongil, then he is older than _Father_!" she snapped. "I should marry a man old enough to be my grandfather?"

"But he is Dunedain. Comparatively speaking, he is not so very old, considering how long he will live," Amrothos argued.

"Which means I will grow old, gray and wrinkly and he will still look young as I go to my grave! Yes, such an appealing notion!" Lothiriel defended, now crossing her own arms in annoyance. She wasn't sure how the marital conversation had shifted from being directed at Amrothos to being aimed at her, but Amrothos had always been very good at deflecting taunts away from himself.

"What of the new king of Rohan?" Elphir interjected. "He is a young man, is he not? And my impression is that Father thinks very highly of him."

"He is young, yes," Amrothos acknowledged. "And judging from the reaction of the ladies, a handsome and engaging man. If Lothiriel wishes to set her cap for him, she will have much competition!"

"I do _not_ intend to set my cap for anyone," she replied frostily. "_If_ we meet, and are attracted to one another, then so be it. But if not, I will thank the both of you to keep your noses out of my business!"

"But getting you properly married _is_ our business, dearest!" Amrothos answered, resulting in her napkin being thrown in his face.

He and Elphir broke into laughter, and at length she joined them, accepting the teasing for what it was. She knew they truly did have her best interests at heart and so could not be much wroth with them.

As it turned out, their discussion of the two kings was neither here nor there. By Mid-year's Day, the King of Gondor had wed an Elf maiden, eliminating him from consideration. As to the other, the King of Rohan, well, fate did not appear to intend that they should meet.

Her illness had prevented her going to Minas Tirith for the celebrations after the War. Though Imrahil had hoped she would join him for the trip to Rohan in July, Alcathir was too near her due date for Lothiriel to feel comfortable leaving her, and so she remained in Dol Amroth yet again.

The next likely chance they would have to meet would be in the spring, when the King's sister was to marry their cousin, Faramir, at Minas Tirith. Perhaps then they would finally be introduced and she could see what all the fuss was about.

xxxxx

(Yule, 3019 III)

Preparing his people to make it through the winter seemed to claim all of Eomer's time, particularly after the funeral guests had departed. He was grateful for the provisions and clothing that Aragorn had sent to tide them over while they rebuilt. They had not managed in luxury, by any means, but they were surviving and that gave him some measure of pride. He had never fully realized all his uncle had faced in ruling the Riddermark, so effortlessly did it appear to a mere nephew. Only now that the responsibility was his did he understand all the decisions that must be made, and that the king was the one required to make them. He hoped he was judging wisely; Aragorn and Imrahil had both approved when they had opportunity to hear and observe him. He trusted them to speak honestly with him, and both had been happy to provide whatever guidance they could.

It meant that he could look upon this Yule celebration with satisfaction. The meal was a bit spartan compared to the finest days of the Mark, but that would change in time. He would make sure of it. It also meant he could relax somewhat and begin to enjoy his position rather than merely suffer it. Eowyn would leave him in the spring, and he hoped that he could also find a partner to share his life as she had. He had come to realize that her feelings for Faramir were genuine and strong; Aragorn had been only a passing infatuation. That had been a relief, though it did nothing to ease the pang of knowing they would soon be separated by many leagues. They could visit each other, it was true, but he was sure it would not be a simple thing to accomplish. Both would be very busy in their respective places. He would very much wish to have someone to share his life now that the last of his family was departing from close proximity.

One would not think finding a wife should be that difficult. Certainly there were enough women eager to catch his eye; the room before him had many at this very moment. They danced past, some virtually ignoring their present partner to gaze longingly at him. Rather than encouraging his interest, their fawning tended to put him off them. A few showed a bit more reserve, perhaps understanding that a man likes to do a bit of pursuing. Things gained too easily are not as fully appreciated.

"Eomer, why are you not dancing?"

His sister stood before him, hands on hips, a smile gracing her lips and fire in her eyes. It was good to see her thus. In recent years he rarely had, as life wore her down, and he had despaired that she would ever be herself again. And, yet, here she was, as he remembered her in his fondest memories. She raised an impatient eyebrow at him when he was slow to respond, so he told her, "You were already dancing with someone else, and I wished to dance with you."

Pleasure tweaked her mouth and then she extended her hand, waggling her fingers to indicate he should rise and take it. "I have no other partner now, Brother, so you have no excuse."

Gladly he stood and they moved together to the dance floor, taking their places amid the other dancers, joining in their laughter and high spirits. Yes, it felt very good to be doing this again, and he would miss it when Eowyn was gone. They had danced together when their uncle insisted they learn, and so they well knew how each other moved. Further, Eowyn was tall and could easily match him stride for stride, as some shorter women could not.

Eomer suppressed another sigh as the dance concluded and they went to find refreshment for their thirst. Yes, time to be getting on with finding a wife. He was tired of being alone.

Erkenbrand had joined them for this year's festivities, both to celebrate the end of war, but also to bring his report to Eomer of conditions in the West-mark. As it was now far safer to travel, he had brought his wife and their two youngest, unmarried daughters with him. Part of Eomer wondered whether his Marshal was hoping to entice the king with one of them, and he could not deny they were likely prospects.

Both were lovely girls, though the younger was newly in womanhood and far too inexperienced to consider for the responsibility of queen. Whenever he was in her vicinity, she tended to favor him with goofy grins, and then giggle and blush excessively, without ever speaking to him. Then she would scurry off to whisper with her friends, and engage in further giggling. Considering the silliness, Eomer felt no attraction to her in a romantic way, and could not envision her as queen unless her manner changed drastically.

The elder of the two, Mithanmag, was more a possibility. She was quiet and sober, and carried herself well. If he must seek a wife, he might as well begin with her. To that end, he asked her to dance. She moved confidently and made a good partner on the floor, but to his dismay, he barely got three words out of her, and she would hardly look at him the entire time, despite his every effort to draw her out.

As the festivities were drawing to a close for the evening, and there were still duties Eomer needed to attend as part of that, he had no further opportunity to pursue conversation with the lady until the next morning at breakfast. She ended up seated next to him for the meal and so he tried to learn more of her then.

"Did you enjoy our Yule celebration last night?" he inquired. "It did not overly tire you?"

Still she persisted in looking down at the table and not meeting his gaze, and her answers were kept to a minimum in response to his questions or comments.

"It was lovely, my lord. No, I am not so very tired," she murmured, keeping her attention focused on her meal.

Without any encouragement from her, Eomer was running out of things to say. But, later that day, he saw Mithanmag crossing the Great Hall and since her family would be leaving the next day, he went to greet her. Likely she was just shy and that was what caused her to hold her tongue.

At his invitation, they moved closer to the hearth since winter's chill was difficult to keep at bay in the large, open hall. But the lady made no effort to speak to him at all beyond her initial response to his greeting, and acquiesence in sharing his company.

"Are you enjoying your visit to Edoras, my lady?" Eomer asked, continuing in his struggle to find conversation.

Mithanmag did not look up, but murmured in the general direction of her hands, "It is quite agreeable, my lord."

There was no indication she desired further discussion, but he persisted a bit longer, touching on the surprisingly clear weather for winter (she agreed it was), hoping she had a pleasant journey in getting there (it was fine), and concluding with him essentially giving an oration on his plans for getting Edoras back on track after the war (she had no comment).

"My lady," he finally asked in frustration, "is there nothing that excites your enthusiasm? I would enjoy hearing of what gives you pleasure and holds your interest."

He would have thought his bluntness might embarrass her, but she gave no outward show that it did. "There is nothing of any consequence to tell you," she answered mildly, still not looking directly at him. "I am not unlike other maidens in my pursuits."

He was disconcerted by her refusal to even meet his gaze, and since that was all he was able to eke out of her as to conversation, at length he excused himself. "It has been a pleasure meeting you, Mithanmag. I do hope you will enjoy the remainder of your time here before returning home."

Certainly he had no intention of delaying her departure, he thought, as he made his way to his study. Shy, even quiet women, did not bother him, but it was agony to get this one to say anything, and he wearied of the effort. They had been in one another's company three times and he still knew nothing more of her personally than at their first encounter. Every response she gave was meek, passive and uninformative. Did she really think he wished to marry a complete stranger? If this was all he could expect during courtship, he did not think she would be of any use as queen, and she was less than inviting as a prospective wife. He did not want to always be arguing with a woman, but he did like them to have a little fire, and an opinion on things!

As they bid farewell to their guests the following day, Eothain stood beside Eomer, watching them ride down the hill, before the pair turned and returned inside. Walking the length of the hall, Eothain finally queried, "Erkenbrand's daughters did not…appeal to you?"

It was too astute a question for Eomer's liking, but Eothain knew him well after all these years. And it did give him an opportunity to vent his frustration. "What was there to appeal? One would not stop her giggling and the other would not say a word! Do you remember that dog that Alfrid had as a boy, the one that had been mistreated? Remember how everytime you so much as looked at it, it fell over on its back and cowered submissively? That is what Mithanmag reminded me of. She agreed with everything said and gave in to what she was bid to do. No question, no opinion, nothing. Such a woman would drive me mad! I do like at least a _little_ conversation!"

Eothain chuckled at his diatribe and nodded his understanding. He had come to the same assessment of the two girls, and was not surprised that Eomer was not eager to pursue either of them. "Well, there are plenty of women to be had, Eomer. Do not trouble yourself about it so early in the hunt. You will find a wife, I am sure."

"And what about you?" Eomer retorted, turning to gaze pointedly at his friend. "You could do with a woman at your side also."

"I could," Eothain conceded, "but it is not so urgent a matter for me as for you, and since I am not king I think I shall have a far easier time finding the right one!"

Eomer could not argue with that, though he scowled at Eothain before continuing to lead the way to his study in silence.

It was an inauspicious beginning to Eomer's efforts at courtship, but he remained mildly optimistic all the same. He had not thought to settle on the very first woman he approached anyway, so it mattered little that he deemed her unsuitable. At least he had not wasted a great deal of time on her.

TBC

ch 1, A/N: I named Elphir's wife Alcathir in my other fics and continue doing so here.

Rohan women:

Afrehold – "perpetually loyal" (ch 3)

Fegenferth – "happy heart" (ch 6)

Mithanmag – "hidden woman" (ch 1)

Rohan male (mentioned):

Aldfrid – "old peace"

Gondor women:

Ardagnir – "bane of royals" (MT) (ch 5)

Balardil – "lover of power" (MT) (ch 2)

Gaermil – "sea lover" (DA) (ch 4)

Pethmil – "lover of words" (MT) (ch 2)

Vaniel – "beautiful daughter" (DA) (ch 4)

Gondor men:

Angamor – "black iron" (ch 7)

Belcam – "strong hand" (ch 3)

Faramil – "sufficient affection" (ch 6)

Pethraug – "demon words" (ch 4)

Tarendil – "friend of kings" (ch 2)

Vanendil – "lover of beauty" (ch 4)

Note: For the Tolkien purists among you: You may have noticed certain Quenya words forming some of the names I give to Gondorians, in other stories but especially in this one where I needed so many original names. I do realize that Gondorian names should pretty much be based on Adunaic or Sindarin/Noldorin. However, as we have so few words in those languages for which we have meanings, it is sometimes difficult to form meaningful names that aren't ones you have seen used a million times before (and which have probably already been given to a more known/recognizable character). I could simply snatch Sindarin words and mash them together, regardless of the meaning of the name it creates, but I don't like to do that, as Tolkien tried to have his names have meaning. So, the least objectionable choice to me is to use Quenya when I have to, and I hope you won't mind too much. See why I prefer to write the Rohirrim? They are so much easier! I can pull just about any meaning I want from Old/Middle English to give them names (except when I can't find a word with the meaning I want that will work as part of a name, but that's a separate issue).


	2. Chapter 2

**Near Misses**

**Chapter 2**

(early April, 3020 III)

"Lothiriel, will you not reconsider?" Erchirion entreated. "I know you wish to see Father as much as he wishes to see you, dearest."

"I do, that is true," she admitted, "but Aunt Ivriniel especially needs my help, now that she has broken her leg. You know how disagreeable she can be, and I seem to be the only one who can keep her moderately satisfied. Much as I would wish to go, I think I must remain here and see to her. Father will understand, as I am sure Faramir will. But give them both my love, and I will see them as soon as possible."

"Very well," Erchirion sighed, accepting her decision.

"Personally," Amrothos announced, coming to join them, "I think this is just a ploy by Lothiriel to avoid meeting Eomer!"

"It is not!" she snapped. "Truth is, I should very much like to meet both kings, but for the moment that is not possible. I have other responsibilities that prevent it. And with Alphrin teething, Alcathir will need help with Alphros. I simply cannot leave just now." She shrugged apologetically.

"Another time," Erchirion assured her, kissing her forehead. "As you said, they will understand and approve your reasons for lingering here. Father has mentioned inviting Eomer to come visit Dol Amroth, so perhaps you will meet him soon anyway. And if he does come, that will certainly bring Father home as well. But I am sorry you will have to miss the wedding. Aunt Ivriniel chose a very poor time to trip over one of her cats!"

They all laughed lightly at his remark, but then she kissed each of their cheeks so they could make their way aboard the ship that was to carry them north. From the dock, Lothiriel waved a frantic farewell when the boat finally began to ease its way out of the harbor, and her brothers stayed on deck until they caught the tide and were too distant to readily be seen.

With a sigh, Lothiriel turned back toward the palace. She was sorry not to see her Father or attend the wedding, but it could not be helped. Perhaps she simply was not supposed to meet either king. Certainly fate appeared to be conspiring against it.

xxxxx

It had been a lovely wedding. Even Eomer, who tended to be rather bored by such festivities, enjoyed it. Admittedly, that he had to play a certain part increased his interest, and that happiness virtually radiated from both Eowyn and Faramir made him very content to witness this event. The only problem of it was that it reminded him all too forcefully of his own need in the marital arena.

At least this celebration had brought out the likeliest candidates, and he could study his choices a little more closely. Elessar had introduced him to Lady Pethmil earlier, and his eyes now found her in the room, standing along the edge of the room, watching the dancers. She had seemed agreeable, and was quite attractive. Perhaps she warranted a closer view.

Accordingly, he moved to join her, and when the next dance began, escorted her onto the floor. She maintained a cheerful chatter through the course of it, and her high spirits fed his own. Before excusing himself to dance and visit with others, he invited, "Would you care to show me about the town tomorrow, my lady? I have some time available in the morning if that is acceptable to you."

"Oh, yes!" she agreed brightly. "I should enjoy that very much, my lord."

She gave him directions to her house and he excused himself, pleased at having made progress in his goal. A few of the other ladies he met during the course of the festivities also struck him as possibilities, so if things did not go well with Lady Pethmil, he could move on to the next.

The morning dawned clear and sunny, and even the wind had abated to make for a very pleasant day out of doors. When he finished with a couple of meetings, Eomer made his way to Lady Pethmil's home, finding her eagerly awaiting his arrival. They were soon underway, strolling down through the various circles of the city, stopping at shops or viewpoints along the way.

Almost from the moment they left her door, Lady Pethmil had begun speaking, and Eomer was hard pressed to get a word in. Even when she asked a question, she barely gave him time to respond before launching on another discourse, happily oblivious to any attempts he made to join in. He could not see that she had much interest in hearing his views on anything; indeed, she was solely intent on regaling him with her thoughts on any and every topic.

"Oh, let us look in this shop! Are not these the finest dresses you have ever seen? Another shop on the fourth Circle pretends theirs are the finest wares, but I do not believe it," she babbled.

"They are–"

She cut across his response. "Look at this one. Is it not an exquisite color? I think it will look very well on me. Oh, and that lovely green one there. The Rohirrim are fond of green, are they not? But it is not my favorite color. Ooh, these hair ribbons will look nice with it."

On and on she droned. It did not take long before her words became a buzzing in his ears, and with it his focus on her waned. He did not know how long they had walked, or how many shops they entered, without his having spoken a single word, or do more than make some small murmur of agreement to her. He snuck a look from the corner of his eye. She was utterly unaware of his inattention, concerned only with what she had to say – not that it was particularly worth saying, in his view. How long could a woman talk about dresses and hair and dances? This one seemed capable of doing so for hours, without drawing breath.

It was a bit early, but he judged it was near enough to midday that he could suggest they stop for a meal. Food in her mouth might shut her up for a time, and he was badly in need of a drink. Perhaps that would help him make it through until they parted company. With difficulty, he interrupted her momentarily to suggest, "Shall we dine at that inn, Lady Pethmil?"

"Oh, yes," she replied uncaringly, and then promptly resumed her former dissertation.

Then, once they were seated at a table, she began a new monologue about her favorite foods and the worst meals she had eaten. Eomer concentrated on his mug of ale, closing his ears and his thoughts to her. He could cross this one off his list. She would talk him into an early grave. As soon as the meal was finished, he would see her home and that would be the end of their association.

Dinner was interminable, but at last he was rid of her and turned to fall in beside Eothain as they walked back to the Citadel. For a lazy morning of merely strolling with a lady, he felt incredibly exhausted.

After several minutes of restrained silence, Eothain could hold back no longer. "The lady did not suit you, Eomer?"

Eomer skidded to a halt, clasping his head, as he growled out his frustration. "Was I mad to wish for a woman who was more talkative?" he rhetorically asked Eothain.

The other man suppressed a grin, replying, "Perhaps you merely assumed that she would be more talkative because she actually had something to say?"

Eomer dropped his hands and tilted his head to scowl at his friend. "Aye! And certainly I was mistaken there. While I confess that I stopped _listening_ to Pethmil's words quite some time ago, I cannot say that I noticed she spoke anything of consequence. I suspect she merely enjoys the sound of her own voice!"

Eothain chuckled, and shrugged. "May I assume we will not be entertaining this particular lady in the future, then, my Lord?"

"I am surprised that you even need to ask," Eomer retorted, turning abruptly. "You know, I had not thought it would be this difficult to find an agreeable woman. It is much easier to spend meaningless time with a barmaid at a tavern, or dancing with many women at gatherings, than it is to find one a man wants for a wife."

Eothain turned as well, clapping him on the shoulder. "It can be done. We see evidence all around us, including Eowyn. Give it more time. You are used to quick results from your actions. It is merely the time involved that frustrates you. And, admittedly, there are yet a great many women for you to consider. A wife is desirable, especially for a king, but there is no reason that you must rush into something as soon as possible. Find the right one before you act, Eomer. The long years ahead may be very cold if you act in haste."

"Wise words from an unmarried man," Eomer observed wryly.

Eothain shrugged. "I just speak as I find. Perhaps I have only observation to bolster my argument, but I am convinced of the truth I speak all the same. I have seen men rush into marriage during the first blush of passion, only to discover that the having was not so pleasing as the wanting. But when a man takes time to know a woman first, and feels confident in his choice, it all seems to work out better in the end. I know your advisers would hasten the process, but you are no weakling they may bully into doing their bidding. Do what is right for you, Eomer. In the end, that is what will be right for the Mark also."

Eomer grinned in amusement at his friend, but nodded. "Well spoken. And I will trust you to help me hold to that course."

Without further comment, they resumed their climb up the hill, but at least the discussion had eased Eomer's tension somewhat.

This misstep, however, made Eomer more reluctant to approach another lady. Perhaps sensing his hesitation, Elessar spoke to him the next morning after their meeting with the Gondorian council had ended.

"Eomer, I know things did not go well with Lady Pethmil, but do not allow that to color your view of the others. I can assure you that there are many worthy ladies at hand. I have never known you to be squeamish about facing a challenge head on!"

The young king grinned at his friend. He knew Elessar spoke the truth, likely the reason he had confessed the previous day's mishap. With a sigh, he replied, "You are right. But one does tend to shy away after once being bitten!"

Elessar laughed loudly, and clapped him on the back. "It is like riding horses – you must get straight back on when you are thrown, lest you never return to the saddle. Now, then, there is a small gathering tonight. Take a look around and see if any will entice you into another attempt."

That agreed upon, each went about the remainder of their day, and Eomer gave little more thought to the discussion until he approached the dining hall that night. Most of the guests were those he had already met, and included in their number were one or two of the other ladies he had considered as possibilities. Seated next to Lady Balardil, he enjoyed pleasant conversation for the course of the meal, and by the time it ended, they had agreed to meet for a visit to town. It was not a particularly inspired attempt to acquaint himself with the lady, he knew, but it would give him a chance to see her behavior with others and with him out in public.

Certainly she was not so talkative as Pethmil had been, speaking in moderation and with great sense. Possibly he could be optimistic about pursuing this association further.

"You have lived in Minas Tirith all of your life?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Most of it, but I was born in Lossarnach. My father moved to the City when I was but a child. His business kept him here so much that he thought it more reasonable for his family to join him than make the journey between the two places."

"My grandmother was from Lossarnach. Is it a long way off? I have heard those who fled the City during the War took refuge there – did you go with them?" he inquired.

"It is less than half a day's ride, my lord. And, yes, I went there with the others who fled. Lord Denethor sent all the women and children from the City before the siege began, save those who could help in the Healing Houses. I do not know if we were a great deal safer, but Mordor had not yet spread its blight there, so it was a great relief to be away from the war."

Eomer's brow wrinkled slightly at the response. While he did not expect women to go into battle, and would not have them trapped in a city besieged, he was more used to women who stepped up and helped in such moments. Surely she could have provided aid in the Healing Houses, for he knew they had been completely overwhelmed with the number of wounded they received. How could anyone sit off at a safe distance and merely be relieved to have the ugliness kept away from them? Still, it seemed a rude thing to ask, so he did not pursue it.

"And how is Gondor taking to having a king once more?" he asked curiously. Most that he had seen appeared to approve of Aragorn, but he wondered what someone might say on the matter, though perhaps they would not be honest with a friend to their king.

"He seems a good man, though why he waited so long to come to our aid is troubling. We shall see whether he proves to be wise and just, and worth the wait. Certainly we managed very well under the Stewards, and Lord Faramir would have been quite able in that regard. Everyone thinks so, but at least the king had the sense to keep him on as Steward. His wisdom and experience will surely be invaluable."

She spoke her mind quite decidedly, which he supposed was a good thing, though he did not get the impression she was open to any other view than her own. There was a hint of haughtiness in her words, suggesting she knew best and all should agree with her. Still, he did not know her very well as yet, and perhaps he was misjudging her.

On the other hand, he did not appreciate her disparaging words regarding Aragorn. While he valued honesty, he thought her words both harsh and unfair. Aragorn had not been sitting idle during the years prior to the great battle, and his efforts probably had prevented the war coming sooner than it did – and before they had a hope of winning it. Still, it was likely she spoke from ignorance of the truth. Perhaps if she knew the facts she would see her king in a better light.

Just as he was going to offer what he knew about Aragorn and his reasons for not revealing himself sooner, they were interrupted by someone calling out behind them.

"Sir! Sir!"

Eomer turned at the entreaty that seemed directed at him. A small, dirty boy in raggedy clothing was running toward them, an earnest expression on his face. Eomer judged he was likely not even ten years of age as yet. "Yes?" Eomer asked, smiling, as the boy skidded to a halt before him.

As the child was catching his breath to speak, Lady Balardil intervened. "Be gone, urchin! Do not trouble the king with your begging!" She waved him off with an impatient gesture.

The lad flinched and fell back a step, but seemed resolved to carry out his mission. "I'm not begging!" he exclaimed, "I just wanted to warn–"

She cut him off again, more angrily this time. "I said be gone! The King has no time for your prattle."

She turned to Eomer and advised, "Pay the beggars no mind, my lord. They are a plague on our streets. It is a shame that the poor do not have nurses to tend their brats and keep them out from under foot of good folk."

Eomer raised an eyebrow at her remarks. "You do not care for children?" Suddenly the vague misgivings he had been having about her earlier were becoming much firmer.

"Children have their place, of course, but ladies of the nobility cannot be expected to contend with them when they are in those trying growing-up years. Once they reach adulthood and have developed manners, then they should take their rightful place in the household and at gatherings," she explained. Her expression showed clearly that she thought him deficient in what should be common knowledge, an ailment he suspected she considered present in most men. "You must be firm with these peasants, my lord, or they will never cease to trouble you."

"But those men, those men with pale hair are following him!" the boy blurted out, before she could prevent him again. The boy pointed a short distance back the way they had just come.

"Of course they are following him!" Lady Balardil snapped. "He is the King and needs protection! Now, go! You have nothing to say to King Eomer that will be of any consequence to him."

When she reached to grab the boy's shoulder, Eomer intercepted and caught her by the wrist. "The boy has something to tell me, and I wish to hear it," he said firmly. "As I will be otherwise occupied, I am sure the streets are perfectly safe for you to make your way home alone. However, I will send a guard with you if you feel you need one." He quirked an eyebrow to emphasize his dismissal of her and she blanched. When he stood silently waiting, she gave a curtsy and walked away from them, slowly moving off up the road with as much dignity as she could muster.

Returning his attention to the boy, Eomer said kindly, "You are very alert to have noticed my guards. Normally they would be closer to me, but they wished to give me time alone with the lady."

The lad's face fell as he realized his mistake. "I…I didn't mean to bother you, sir."

"You did not," Eomer reassured. "A friend alerting me to possible danger is always a welcome thing. So, friend, did I smell a bakery back there? I could use a treat and wish to share with you, as a token of my appreciation."

A wide grin split the boy's face and he nodded eagerly. "I know just the place, sir! This way!" He caught Eomer's hand and tugged him along, the King smiling with pleasure. Certainly this was more agreeable company than that which he had just quitted. He supposed that was another lady gone from consideration.

Once they had bought their treats, and Eomer had signaled his guards forward to share in it, he and the boy found an obliging bench on which to sit and eat them.

"Are you really the king?" the boy asked around a mouthful of cinnamon roll.

"I am," Eomer acknowledged, adding, "the king of Rohan. Elessar is your king."

"But…but I heard the king of Rohan was a great warrior. Why would you need guards?" the boy questioned, his eyebrows knit together in confusion.

Eomer chuckled, and the guards standing nearby hid their grins. "A very good question!" Eomer asserted. "It is not that I am unable to defend myself, but…well, I suppose it is assumed that I will have other matters claiming my attention and I might not notice danger so readily. They are with me to see that I am not attacked unaware. But, if it came to a fight, you may be sure I would be involved! I am not one to stand idly by."

The boy grinned at that, but glanced down at Eomer's hip with a frown. Eomer could guess his thoughts, and explained, "Usually I do wear my sword, but when one is spending time with a lady it is not entirely appropriate. This time I would have to rely on my guards, should anything happen."

The boy licked his hands clean and then dried them on his pants leg. Finally, he said, "My name is Tarendil. I am pleased to meet a king." He offered his hand and Eomer readily clasped it, sticky fingers and all.

"And I am Eomer, though I suppose in public you should probably not be so informal with me." He gave the lad a wink, eliciting a grin in response. "But now, Tarendil, I fear I must be about my day. It has been a pleasure meeting you, and again I thank you for guarding me from danger. A king needs such good friends."

The boy smiled broadly and rose as Eomer stood. "I will warn you whenever I see a danger to you, I promise! But now I know about your guards, so I will be more careful next time."

"Agreed!" Eomer chuckled. "And good day to you!"

The boy turned and ran off down the street, and Eomer watched him go, smiling in amusement, before at last moving up the hill.

After two failed attempts at courtship, Eomer decided against further efforts on this visit to Gondor. He would take another look at the ladies of the Mark and see if he could not find someone there. Perhaps he was not meant to woo someone from this land.

TBC

Rohan women:

Afrehold – "perpetually loyal" (ch 3)

Fegenferth – "happy heart" (ch 6)

Mithanmag – "hidden woman" (ch 1)

Rohan male (mentioned):

Aldfrid – "old peace"

Gondor women:

Ardagnir – "bane of royals" (MT) (ch 5)

Balardil – "lover of power" (MT) (ch 2)

Gaermil – "sea lover" (DA) (ch 4)

Pethmil – "lover of words" (MT) (ch 2)

Vaniel – "beautiful daughter" (DA) (ch 4)

Gondor men:

Angamor – "black iron" (ch 7)

Belcam – "strong hand" (ch 3)

Faramil – "sufficient affection" (ch 6)

Pethraug – "demon words" (ch 4)

Tarendil – "friend of kings" (ch 2)

Vanendil – "lover of beauty" (ch 4)


	3. Chapter 3

**Near Misses**

**Chapter 3**

(late Apr, 3020 III)

At least being in the saddle worked its usual magic, and Eomer's tension oozed away with every league he rode from Minas Tirith. If nothing else, he had the pleasant memories of Eowyn's wedding to ease his mind and gloss over his two discouraging encounters with those of the opposite sex.

Aldburg was not directly on the road home, but it was near enough that he did not feel he could ride past without stopping. He had not made time for a visit since the War had ended, always feeling in too much of a hurry when he found himself on the Great West Road between Edoras and the land of Gondor. Now seemed a most opportune moment to consult with Elfhelm and enjoy being under his boyhood roof once more. He chuckled to himself, remembering that he had also made it the center of his activities as Third Marshal, so it was not as though he had not returned in years. In many ways, despite all the time he had spent at Edoras with his uncle and cousin, this would always, first and foremost, be his home.

Rumor of their approach must have sent gossips scurrying about the town, for there was a large turnout of the citizens to cheer their new king, and familiar friend, on his return. Even his own household staff had come out to greet him, and it warmed his heart to see it.

Elfhelm appeared only moments after he had dismounted, and the two men began an eager conversation. Despite their difference in years, Elfhelm having served alongside Eomer's father, they had long been friends. It was in Elfhelm's eored that Eomer received his first training in battle, and the older man had treated him as a son. As his staff was not expecting him, and since Elfhelm desired to entertain Eomer in his home, it was agreed that the king would come to supper that night, to include a small gathering arranged by his Marshal.

Aside from the fact that there had been little cause for merriment during the years leading to the great War, this was familiar to Eomer, and he felt more relaxed than at any other time. At Edoras he had responsibilities weighing upon him, but here, for a short while, he could just enjoy the company of good friends.

Arriving punctually, as was his habit, Eomer found a small group already beginning to gather. All were faces he knew, though some he had not spent any appreciable time with for a long while. In particular, several of the women caught his notice. They had been young ladies, not yet fully grown, last that he recalled, and he had paid them little mind, but now they were more seasoned and quite attractive to the eye.

Afrehold was the youngest daughter of another of his father's friends, more than ten years his junior, and he had dined in their home on several occasions, as her brother had also been in Elfhelm's eored. She had become quite a beauty while he was off fighting battles, and he found his eyes turning in her direction several times. It was apparent that she was equally mindful of him, for his gaze often met hers turned toward him, and at length he was able to work his way over to greet her and become reacquainted.

"You are looking well, Afrehold," he said with a smile, taking a swallow of ale.

She beamed eagerly up at him. "Thank you, Eomer – I mean, Eomer King. You are very kind!"

He was not yet used to such deference from old friends, though he supposed he should learn to accept it. "Not at all. I only speak the truth," he assured her. "How have you been since I was last home?"

"Oh it was so frightful during the War, but now that it is ended all is well. I hope we will see more of you now. Will you be coming home more often?" She caught at his arm, still gazing up at him with fawning eyes that were beginning to make him uneasy.

"I do not think that is likely now that I am king. It will be necessary to spend most of my time at Edoras. But I will not forget my home."

Her face fell at this news, but then brightened as she suggested eagerly, "Perhaps Father will come to Edoras more, or even take a house there. Then we could have plenty of time together."

His brow knit and he felt himself retreating from her inwardly, if not physically. She was a sweet girl, but her enthusiasm was a bit overwhelming and singleminded.

Unnoticing of his reserve, she continued to press upon him, and as the evening continued he found it difficult to elude her to greet other guests. When they went into supper, she took his arm proprietarily and settled into the chair beside him. Clearly she had claimed him for her own even if he had not reciprocated.

"Eomer, we have all heard how brave and bold you were in Gondor. Were it not for you, I am sure they would have fallen to the enemy. You must be the greatest warrior that ever lived!" she gushed, to his great embarrassment, and the amusement of the others seated near him at the table who had overheard.

"Yes, my lord, Afrehold is quite right. I am not certain why you thought the rest of us needed to go with you," Elfhelm murmured to him while Afrehold was speaking to the woman next to her.

"Do not you start, too!" Eomer hissed, coloring slightly. "Do not encourage her foolish words."

Elfhelm chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. "I am only teasing, my friend. Unfortunately, there are many young ladies who see you in the same light. You may find you must endure more of this than you anticipate."

"Not if I can avoid it," Eomer vowed from the corner of his mouth, as Afrehold turned back to shower him with more praise.

With a sigh, Eomer tolerated her deferential treatment the remainder of the evening, and by the end he was more than weary of her. He had expected better sense from her; she had not been so silly before. Whether it was his status overly impressing her, or merely overeagerness on her part to secure a husband, he did not know, but he did know that she was not for him. She still had much to learn and growing to do before she would be ready for marriage, and he was not sure she would ever be up to the challenge of being a queen.

Eomer did not remain long at Aldburg, if for no other reason than to escape from Afrehold. If he had let her, she would have occupied all his time. Gratefully he stepped up into the saddle to continue his journey, avoiding her attempts to catch his eye. With a wave, he rode away, not looking back.

xxxxx

(late May, 3020 III)

It was too late, she knew, to meet King Eomer, but now that Aunt Ivriniel's leg was mended, and with her father not intending to return home for some time yet, Lothiriel determined to go to the White City. She had longed to meet the new king and queen, and see Minas Tirith slowly being restored to her former glory.

Elphir had returned to the coast a fortnight ago, but Amrothos had remained with their father in the north. She was eager to see them both, and could barely contain her excitement as she boarded the boat.

"Enjoy your visit, dearest," Elphir told her, giving her a final hug.

"And do not forget to bring that fabric, if you can find it at a good price," Alcathir reminded her, struggling with a squirming infant. Elphir reached over and took the toddler to allow his wife to bid Lothiriel a proper farewell.

"I will remember," Lothiriel assured, pressing a kiss to Alcathir's cheek. "And I will be home before you know it." With another grin, she climbed the plank to the deck, and then waved as the boat was secured and they pushed off. Only when her brother and sister turned back toward the palace did she make her way to the bow, enjoying the sea breeze on her face. She had missed sailing; there had been little opportunity for it in recent months. She hoped she could work in more of it during the coming summer.

She whiled away over two hours at the rail, enjoying the views of the sea. She knew they would not reach the river's entrance to begin their trip up the Anduin until nearly nightfall, and have to wait until the next day to start that portion of the trip. Reluctantly she turned away from the scenery and went to settle her cabin before the noonday meal, but she fully intended to spend as much time on deck as she could for the entirety of the trip.

It was a deliciously lazy time for her, having nowhere to go and no responsibilities for the duration. She could merely relax, let her mind drift away to pleasant thoughts and enjoy the warmth of the sun on her face. The stopover at Pelargir was an added delight, as she had not visited the town in quite some time. With guards solicitously flanking her, she enjoyed a walk about, perusing shops until the sun began to set. Rather than dine on board, she located a small inn that she remembered her Father mentioning as having excellent fare. Though they were reluctant to do so, she did not wish to dine alone and insisted that her guards join her and her handmaiden. It took awhile, but the two men did finally relax in her company and seemed to enjoy themselves.

They had dined early enough that she was able to stop at a sweets shop just before it closed for the night, and purchase some of the licorice that she knew her father favored. No doubt he would be pleased with the treat.

The next two days of sailing were sunny and langorous, but at length they pulled into the harbor at the Harland. While she waited to debark, her eyes searched the dock and finally located her father and Amrothos awaiting her. The sight of her father fired her up, and it was all she could do to be patient until they had the plank in place and would allow her access to it. With an effort, realizing the possible danger, she did not run down to greet them, but once her feet hit the dock she hurried forward with a small squeal of delight.

She flung herself into her father's arms, unheeding of raised eyebrows by others on the dock. What cared she their thoughts when she had not seen her father in months? He had come home all too briefly during the winter, but then returned to Minas Tirith to assist King Elessar. While he assured them he would be home in due course, for the time being he was needed here.

"Welcome, my dear," he whispered to her. "I am very glad you could finally come. You will be greatly surprised with all the changes here since the war."

She laughed and drew back. "What does that matter? I only wish to meet dear Faramir's bride! That our cousin should have his heart captured by a wild woman of the northlands is truly astonishing!"

Amrothos and Imrahil chuckled appreciatively, but Amrothos interjected, "Once you have met Eowyn you will not think it so amazing. Should another shieldmaiden of Rohan turn up at the gates, I might just marry her myself!"

"Now _that_ would be astonishing!" Imrahil teased. Amrothos wrinkled his nose at his father but made no reply, and the three of them turned to the carriage waiting to carry them to the city. Much of the brief trip was spent pointing out to Lothiriel the changes since she had last visited, more than a year before the final battles began. Once they reached the city gates, they transferred to foot and began the slow trek up through the streets, while Lothiriel's baggage was loaded into carts for transport.

"I can see some of the damage," she told them quietly as they walked along. "So many buildings are gone on these lower circles. I had not quite expected that."

"Yes," Imrahil sighed. "When they breached the gate I confess that I thought all might be lost. Were it not for the arrival of the Rohirrim at dawn, I feel sure the city would have fallen. We can never repay that debt."

Amrothos canted a sly glance at her, and commented, "It is a pity you did not arrive in time to meet Eomer."

She elbowed him, before retorting, "Enough of your matchmaking, Brother! If it is meant to be, I will meet King Eomer in due course." Then eyeing him defiantly she added pertly, "I notice he was not interested enough to wait around until I could come to make his acquaintance!"

Amrothos laughed loudly, causing several passersby to look at him curiously before continuing on their way. "If he only knew what he was missing!" he replied.

"Enough you two," Imrahil admonished, turning in at their gate. "I am sure Eomer would be pleased to meet Lothiriel, but he well understands that circumstances have prevented it heretofore. Given the opportunity I am sure he would be delighted to make the acquaintance of my daughter."

Their family chatter continued as the two men saw Lothiriel settled in her room. After a few minutes, however, Imrahil excused himself to attend to business, leaving the siblings to banter between themselves.

"At least you will get into the thick of things quickly while you are here," Amrothos observed, sprawling in a chair as Lothiriel got her clothes put away. "There is to be a feast at the Citadel tomorrow night, and you can finally meet King Elessar, if Father does not introduce you before then."

"I look forward to meeting him, and his wife," Lothiriel enthused. "All of you have spoken so warmly of them, I am sure I will like them both. Tell me more of Queen Arwen."

Amrothos shrugged. "She is exceedingly beautiful, and one would never guess she is nearly three thousand years of age, but I cannot say that I know her very well. She is reserved, though not unfriendly, and I have not had much occasion to speak with her for any length of time. Aragorn – I mean Elessar – clearly adores her, and well he should considering how long they waited to wed. Though I suppose if I were as long-lived as the Dunedain I could take that much time courting a woman also."

Lothiriel snickered and paused in her work to look laughingly at her brother. "You are giving it a good attempt, even without being Dunedain!"

Amrothos grinned in response, then shrugged apologetically. "I do look, Thiri, truly I do. But…no one has caught my interest to the exclusion of all others."

Her expression sobered and she came over to sit down next to him. "I know, and you are right to wait. At least we are fortunate that Father will not press us to marry without affection. He values love above expediency, and that is to our advantage, though it puts us no closer to finding the right person," she admitted ruefully.

"Do not despair, dearest," he told her earnestly. "I am sure that you, and I, will find someone. It may take awhile yet, but I am certain it will happen. I will not contemplate otherwise."

She smiled lovingly at him a moment before resuming her work. She hoped very much that he was right in his assertions.

Imrahil wasted no time in allowing Lothiriel to greet her cousin and his new wife; both were invited to join them for supper that very night. It seemed ages since Lothiriel had seen Faramir, and last she recalled he was often somber, with a sadness clouding his eyes. She knew that he and his father had not been in accord on many things while Denethor lived, and always Faramir had lived in the shadow of his beloved elder brother. With their deaths and the joy of his new bride, Faramir was a new man. Lothiriel was sure that he felt acutely the loss of Boromir, if not his father, but his love for Eowyn had taken precedence in his heart and on his countenance. It was a pleasure to see him looking so well.

Eowyn, though well spoken, was somewhat reserved with her, and Lothiriel sensed that Eowyn was taking her measure before trusting her to intimacy. She could certainly understand that, but what she learned through the course of the evening provided her with a good opinion of the lady. True, she had difficulty reconciling what she had heard of the valiant wraith-slayer with the almost delicate woman before her eyes, but she sensed a steel in Eowyn that her appearance belied.

In some ways, she was envious of what Eowyn had accomplished. Not that Lothiriel had ever desired to go into battle, but doing so represented a far greater contribution to their victory than anything Lothiriel could claim. More than once she had felt her existence to be too shallow, and her efforts of too little consequence to the overall good of the world. While it was true that women of Gondorian society, particularly at her own high level, were restricted in what contributions were acceptable, she still wished to do more of direct benefit than she had done or believed she could do. Possibly it was different in Rohan, and that was why Eowyn had taken an unusual path. Certainly meeting this lady made her more curious to see that land and meet her people.

It took most of the evening before Lothiriel got the impression that Eowyn had approved of her. For some reason she could not define, that realization pleased her. She hoped the two of them could be friends, despite the distance between their homes.

After the meal, they adjourned to the sitting room, where the men promptly fell into a discussion of the great plans for Minas Tirith's renewal. Lothiriel cast Eowyn an apologetic look. "They never seem to tire of such conversation, no matter how thoroughly they have covered the topic during the course of their day!" she observed.

Eowyn laughed, favoring the younger woman with a warm smile. "It is the same in any land, I am afraid. You cannot sit at a meal in Edoras without listening to talk of battles or politics. One would think the end of war would turn their minds to happier matters, but now they focus on the rebuilding with almost as much fervor as they did the warfare."

Lothiriel returned the smile, glad to be gaining some ground at last. "True! But, without the spectre of war, we women may feel more free to work our wiles enticing them to more amenable subjects. I am much mistaken if you are not able to easily make Faramir lose his train of thought!"

If her comment shocked Eowyn, she did not show it, though the woman's cheeks pinked slightly. "And do not think I restrain myself in that regard when I deem it necessary!" she replied in kind.

They laughed together, causing the men to glance over at them, distracted by the sound. "Their minds are not entirely on politics, though," Lothiriel mused aloud. "Already my family seeks to see me wed. Were your brother still here, I am sure we would be introduced forthwith in hopes we would wander in the marital direction together!"

Eowyn sobered and eyed her pensively a moment before quietly commenting, "You and Eomer would get along well, I think. Your temperaments are not dissimilar, and I perceive a spirit in you that my brother would admire."

It was Lothiriel's turn to pink with embarrassment. "Perhaps you are right," she murmured, "though at the rate we are going we will never meet and it can never come to pass. That has been a great source of frustration to my family, I am sure!"

Eowyn chuckled again. "Yes, I can see how it would be. Still, Eomer has not yet met anyone else. So long as neither of you forms an attachment, there is always hope."

"If destiny brings us together," Lothiriel added ruefully.

Eowyn raised an eyebrow. "I am not much a believer in being subject to the whims of destiny. A person makes their own destiny, if they will."

Lothiriel cocked her head in surprise at the remark, then acknowledged, "Yes, I suppose they do. I had never thought of that." They fell silent for several minutes before Lothiriel added, lest Eowyn get the wrong impression, "Do not think that I avoid your brother, though. It is not that at all. It simply has not worked out that I was able to be where he was up until now. I am not opposed to our meeting, and I feel sure I will like him, if nothing more than as a friend. My family speaks too warmly of him for me to think otherwise."

Eowyn nodded her understanding just as Faramir came to join them and the conversation turned in other directions. Lothiriel supposed that it was a good thing that Eowyn did not object to an alliance between her and King Eomer, though there was still the matter of a first introduction, and no prospect of that in sight.

At the feast the following night, any thoughts of Eowyn's brother were driven from Lothiriel's mind as she was pressed upon by many gentlemen eager to further their acquaintance with her. She had danced nearly every dance and sipped wine – in moderation so as to last the night – and now was being entreated to walk in the night air to escape the warmth of the hall for a time. It seemed a pleasing idea as she was quite overheated from her exertion, and gratefully took Lord Belcam's arm as they exited.

She had known Lord Belcam for several years, as they moved in similar circles, both at Minas Tirith and her own homeland. He was a familiar face in her father's court, and she had become comfortable with him though she was not particularly attracted to him. He had been wed once before, but his wife had died in childbirth shortly before the War began. Rumors now indicated he was considering a second wife, and with the dearth of men and so many widows, she hoped he would find someone suitable.

They strolled in silence and she was enjoying the starry expanse overhead and the cool breeze on her face, not paying particular attention to their path. A hand slipped around her waist drawing her up against Lord Belcam, and she came out of her reverie with a start.

"Lord Belcam! What are you doing?" she exclaimed, pushing at him, but he held her firmly.

"Come now, Lothiriel, do not be coy. The night is dark and still, and made for lovers. Surely you are eager to find love? Is that not the reason you wished for a moonlight stroll with me?" he murmured, leaning toward her.

She leaned away, saying sharply, "Release me, sir! I do not consider this sort of behavior as symbolic of any love on your part. I merely wanted some fresh air!"

His expression tightened to obvious annoyance. "My lady, be reasonable. Perhaps you are too young to realize that you will find this most pleasurable. I assure you it is so. You cannot be so naive as to not have understood my purpose."

His hand stroked her back familiarly and her anger began to rise, along with a certain measure of fear. She now regretted her inattention, and he had clearly steered her well away from others to a secluded spot. She fought to quell her panic, and tried to think how to resolve this situation quickly.

"Is there some reason you wish to die, Lord Belcam?" a quiet voice suddenly asked from the darkness, a moment before Amrothos joined them.

Immediately, Lord Belcam took a step back from Lothiriel before saying, "I do not take your meaning, sir."

"I mean that I take exception to your behavior with my sister. I mean that from this moment forward you will never come near her again, not even to dance with her at gatherings. If you do, I will deal with you personally, and in a most painful way. There, have I made myself plain now?" Amrothos said, stepping closer and glowering at the other man.

Lord Belcam flinched, falling back another two steps. "Y…yes, my lord! I meant no offense! I—"

"Be gone," Amrothos spat dismissively. "I am not interested in your lies or excuses. I know what I witnessed and it _will not_ happen ever again!"

Hastily Lord Belcam beat a retreat, and before he was out of sight, Lothiriel had stepped into her brother's embrace. "Thank you," she murmured. "I feel sure I could have dealt with him, but your way was far more effective."

He sighed as he held her close, not missing the tremble she could not repress. At length he remarked, "We press you to consider marriage, and yet these are your prospects? Little wonder that you hesitate." He drew back to look at her in the moonlight. "Perhaps that is one of the reasons Father is eager for you to meet Eomer, in hopes of sparking something between you – at least with him we know you would be safe."

She gave a shaky laugh, her tension eased by his lighthearted remark. Taking his arm, she said, "Will you see me home? I believe I have had enough for one evening." Though she expected to need to be wary of strange men, she had not figured the same to be true with men she had known for several years, and who were prospective suitors. She saw now that she must rethink that, and be more cautious in the future, a discouraging thought.

With a silent nod, Amrothos headed toward the gate. Not until they entered the courtyard of their home, did either speak again, as Lothiriel asked, "So, if this Eomer of Rohan is so special, why have you not made greater effort to introduce us? My menfolk are certainly falling down on the job if he is as wonderful a man as you say."

She grinned teasingly at him and he snickered. "That might be true if we were not dealing with someone so stubborn as you, dearest! You have not made it easy!"

She released his arm to precede him into the house, but looked back over her shoulder to retort, "You managed to find a way to defeat Sauron and all his minions, and yet you are thwarted by a mere woman? How embarrassing!"

They entered the house laughing, both secretly pleased to have the evening end on a cheerier note.

In another house, later that evening, conversation had also turned to talk of Eomer and Lothiriel, for Faramir had commented to his wife, "Imrahil would certainly be pleased to have your brother as a son. 'Tis a shame he and Lothiriel have not met to further my uncle's cause."

Eowyn shook her head in amusement, then shrugged. "I am sure Eomer would wish for such a simple solution. When he was here, he was most frustrated with his efforts at finding and courting appropriate women."

"He did not found anyone in Minas Tirith to his liking?" Faramir asked, skinning out of his tunic.

"A few, initially, but too soon they revealed traits that put him off. And it is not just here. He has no better luck at home. I know he is eager to find a bride, but he will not marry in haste, and so far none have inspired affection in him," she sighed.

"Well," Faramir murmured, going to snare his wife who had just slipped out of her dress, "I wish him all the best in his efforts, but as I am more fortunate, may I presently turn my attention to enjoying what I have?" Eowyn did not protest the suggestion.

TBC

Rohan women:

Afrehold – "perpetually loyal" (ch 3)

Fegenferth – "happy heart" (ch 6)

Mithanmag – "hidden woman" (ch 1)

Rohan male (mentioned):

Aldfrid – "old peace"

Gondor women:

Ardagnir – "bane of royals" (MT) (ch 5)

Balardil – "lover of power" (MT) (ch 2)

Gaermil – "sea lover" (DA) (ch 4)

Pethmil – "lover of words" (MT) (ch 2)

Vaniel – "beautiful daughter" (DA) (ch 4)

Gondor men:

Angamor – "black iron" (ch 7)

Belcam – "strong hand" (ch 3)

Faramil – "sufficient affection" (ch 6)

Pethraug – "demon words" (ch 4)

Tarendil – "friend of kings" (ch 2)

Vanendil – "lover of beauty" (ch 4)


	4. Chapter 4

**Near Misses**

**Chapter 4**

(late May-early June, 3020 III)

The subject of King Eomer lingered in Lothiriel's thoughts the day after her trouble with Lord Belcam, but she saw no way to resolve the matter. Going to Rohan solely for the purpose of meeting him would be terribly inappropriate, so she would simply have to await the next reasonable opportunity to be in his presence. In the meantime, there was another feast scheduled a week later that would include dancing.

Lothiriel was feeling decidedly wary after the mishap with Lord Belcam, but Amrothos kept near her once the meal was ended. While he did not interfere with men approaching her with offers to dance or converse, he made sure she knew he was readily available if she had need of him. Dear Amrothos! He had ever looked after her. All her brothers had, of course, but Amrothos most of all. Perhaps their only being a few years apart in age made them share a closer relationship.

She danced much; at least that she could enjoy even if her partners did not inspire any interest. As she paused to rest, having sent Amrothos for wine, one of her earlier partners approached and smiled at her.

"Lady Lothiriel, as we are enjoying fine weather, would you care to go riding tomorrow?" Lord Pethraug invited hopefully.

While she was not sure she wished to encourage him, finding him rather fussy and particular, a jaunt on the Pelennor did sound pleasurable. If she was careful not to encourage his attentions too much, it could be an agreeable way to spend a morning or afternoon. Besides, perhaps he had changed and she might find him more appealing than she had in the past. She supposed she should give him the benefit of the doubt and see.

"I would like that, if Amrothos is available to accompany us," she replied. She had learned her lesson and would not be alone with a suitor again until she was absolutely certain she was willing to receive any advances they might make.

Said brother was returning just then with the wine she had requested, and Lord Pethraug hastened to make the request of him. After a quick glance at his sister, to determine her inclination in the matter, Amrothos agreed to a morning ride. Plans were made to meet at the city gate around nine the next day.

Not wishing to encourage Lord Pethraug overly much, Lothiriel drank some of her wine and then took her brother's arm. "Shall we dance?" she asked, and when he agreed, setting aside his own wine, she offered apologies to Pethraug as they moved toward the dance floor.

"Do I sense hesitancy in your acceptance of this outing?" Amrothos queried, as they took up their positions.

"Caution, that is all. If he has improved since last we met, I may encourage him more, but until I am sure, I think it best that I keep a reserve between us," she answered, taking the first steps as the music began.

After several movements through the dance figures, they were back together long enough for him to comment, "A wise decision, dearest. Do not act too hastily and regret it later." She merely smiled in response, amused by his pearls of wisdom considering his own unwed status.

With the prospect of the outing, Lothiriel did not stay very late at the gathering that night, and Amrothos did not mind leaving early to escort her home.

The next day, they explained their morning's activity to their father over breakfast, before returning to their rooms to prepare themselves. Amrothos had arranged for horses to be readied, and the mounts were led out almost immediately when they arrived at the stables. They enjoyed the ride down through the city, watching the shopkeepers bustling about seeing to business, and the early customers already making visits.

At the gate, they found Lord Pethraug waiting for them, and he smiled approvingly that they were right on time, but then his eyes took in Lothiriel's saddle and a frown twitched at his mouth. Whatever his thoughts, he said nothing, mounting his horse to join them. They rode for nearly a mile at a leisurely pace, letting the horses get warmed up a little, and then Amrothos chose to liven things up by challenging, "Let us race to that large tree just by the side of the road." He pointed to the one he meant, and then, without waiting for agreement on their part, he counted, "One-two-three-GO!" and dug in his heels.

Lothiriel was expecting this, knowing her brother only too well, and she urged her horse forward almost as soon as he did, but Pethraug was caught off guard and left sputtering a protest to their disappearing backs. The distance was less than a mile, and Lothiriel almost caught her brother before he got there, but fell a few inches short of a victory.

"Next time," she admonished, "I get to give the starting signal!"

He just laughed as Pethraug finally cantered up to join them, looking mildly disapproving, though he kept silent and they ignored his displeasure. The rest of the ride the two siblings managed to restrain their frivolity and ride in a more sedate and dignified manner. However, after half an hour, apparently Pethraug had choked back his thoughts long enough.

"My lady," he said, carefully not looking at Lothiriel, "would it not be better for you to ride side-saddle, as is the way of young ladies in Gondor?" He did not keep the disapproval from his voice, and Lothiriel stiffened.

"Perhaps," she admitted, "but I was taught to ride astride by my brothers, and much prefer it. So I think I shall continue to do so."

Like a dog with a bone, Pethraug wasn't willing to yield. "But do you not think it inappropriate and unladylike? I am sure you would not wish anyone to think ill of your upbringing."

Lothiriel couldn't quite believe her ears, but she bit back an angry retort and answered him impassively. "I am told that the wife of Gondor's steward rides astride, and no one considers anything amiss with her for doing so, thus I think they shall not object if I do it."

Pethraug now appealed to Amrothos to support his view, saying, "My Lord, would you not agree that it is unseemly? Surely you can persuade your sister to see reason."

Amrothos shrugged mildly. "If we may not emulate the Steward's acceptance of the practice, then who should we follow? The King, perhaps? But, come to think of it, even his bride arrived at Minas Tirith sitting astride her horse. No, I think I had best not encourage Lothiriel to oppose the example of two such eminent women!"

Clearly Pethraug was not pleased, and now tried another tack. "But certainly your husband will not approve, and you would not wish to bring dishonor upon him with your behavior."

For a warm autumn day, the air felt chill as Lothiriel replied frostily, "As regards my _husband_, whomever he may turn out to be, I am _very_ sure he will have no objections, since I do not think he would appeal to me if he were bothered by such a trivial matter." She slanted a glance at him from the corner of her eye and saw his jaw stiffen at the subtle rebuke. She did not dare look at her brother, riding on her other side, sure that to do so would mean the laughter she felt radiating from him would break forth, and anger Pethraug even more because of the perceived ridicule. At least her words had silenced him.

She nudged her horse into a canter, leaving the two men riding together, and after a moment, Amrothos suggested an early return to the city, indicating Lothiriel did not ride often enough and might find the outing physically taxing. Pethraug acquiesced with a terse nod of his head.

They left Pethraug at the gate with overly polite goodbyes on each side, but they had not reached the gate to the second circle before Amrothos ventured, "So, am I sensing a disinclination for him to pursue you further?"

She broke out in peals of laughter. "You might say that! Imagine, having the audacity to dictate my actions to me! Who does he think he is?"

"Someone far more important than you deem him," Amrothos answered, chuckling. "Still, a man must ensure that his _prospective bride_ behaves appropriately." He struggled to keep his features impassive as he said it, knowing what her reaction would be.

"Perhaps that is so," she retorted tartly, "but as Pethraug will never be using the words 'prospective bride' to describe _me_, my conduct should be of no concern to him! His chances were never good, but now I would say they are non-existent!"

Now Amrothos did laugh heartily. "Ah well, no one can fault you for making the effort, anyway."

The rest of the trip up the hill and to the stables was largely made in comfortable silence between the siblings, but Lothiriel's mind was awhirl. Two failed efforts had taken much of the pleasure out of this visit to Minas Tirith. Once more her thoughts flitted to Eomer of Rohan, but making his acquaintance was no nearer to happening than it had been last week.

Little did she know, she was missing yet another chance of it at that very moment.

Eomer had decided to traverse the Dimholt, to determine its viability as a trade route to Dol Amroth and the southern ports. A small party departed Edoras in mid-May and they arrived at Dol Amroth about the time Lothiriel's boat was docking at Minas Tirith. Eomer had not announced his coming, as he did not know what his plans would be and did not wish to raise expectations he might be unable to meet.

Consequently, Elphir was surprised by the King's arrival, but warm in his welcome. The two men had met at Faramir's wedding and readily become friends. After profuse apologies that most of the household was away at the White City, Eomer's party was quickly settled in rooms for the duration of their stay.

"I had hoped to meet with some tradesmen while here," Eomer explained over a glass of wine. "Perhaps you could recommend those most likely to have goods that would be useful to Rohan."

"Of course. Give me some idea of what you seek, and I will also suggest anything I think you might have overlooked. Then I can make introductions between you. I will set the library aside for you to hold your meetings, if that would suit."

Eomer nodded agreeably, and the discussion continued along those lines until they joined Alcathir at suppertime.

"While you are here, Eomer, shall I arrange a feast so you may meet the local nobility? My father has indicated you seek a wife, without much success. Perhaps you wish to see what your choices might be in the south?"

Eomer chuckled. "My marital status seems to be of great interest to everyone around me! But, as you say, it is a matter to which I must attend as soon as possible. Yes, I shall be happy to meet the ladies of Dol Amroth, though it seems I am to be disappointed again in meeting your sister. Everyone assures me she is well worth knowing, but I seem unable to make it happen."

Elphir smiled. "Yes, I think Father and my brothers are frustrated by that as well. I believe everyone hopes you and Lothiriel would appeal to one another, and certainly Father would not mind claiming you as another son. But Thiri has gone north to the White City. I am not sure that it is feasible to try and get her home while you are with us."

"I understand, of course. Perhaps if I had made you aware that I was coming it might have been different. The fault is entirely mine. Still, I shall be delighted to determine if Dol Amroth offers any other prospects. I confess I am finding this task less agreeable than one might expect," Eomer sighed.

Alcathir spoke up to say, "Perhaps you try too hard, Eomer. You cannot _make_ affection occur, it must do so as it will. Possibly those well-meaning folks around you are making you feel an urgency that is not entirely necessary."

He smiled warmly at her. "Thank you. I have been of that opinion for some time, but no one wishes to hear my views on the matter. They only wish me to announce a well-chosen bride as soon as possible."

"Well," Alcathir told him, "we will see if we are able to assist you. I can have a feast arranged for the day after tomorrow. If nothing comes of it, there is still Lothiriel as yet unseen, and you may enjoy the company of many ladies in the interlude."

As good as her word, Eomer entered the dining hall two days later to find a swirl of color adorning numerous lovely women. Certainly he could appreciate this aspect of his task, for he had begun to find the dark-haired looks of southern women to be most appealing. He would relax, enjoy himself and not worry too much about a favorable outcome.

By the end of the evening, he mentally had two possible choices. The first, Lady Gaermil, had agreed to show him about Dol Amroth and introduce him to the seaside. He did not tell her that Alcathir and her children had already done so, figuring it was a way to speak with her alone and better determine if he wished to know more of her.

The morning stroll about town was unremarkable, though at least he had no major conflict with her as had happened to him in Minas Tirith. The docks were interesting, and since her father owned a large fishing fleet, Gaermil was quite knowledgeable of their trade.

After a noon-day meal taken at a food stall near the wharf, they meandered onto the shore and she told him of the many sights he was seeing for the second time. Much was strange to his eyes, having lived all his life inland, but he could appreciate the beauty of the sea all the same.

"Have you only lived by the shore, my lady?" he asked, gazing out over the water.

"Yes. I was born in Edhellond, but we moved to Dol Amroth when I was only a child. I cannot imagine living anywhere but by the sea," she enthused.

He thought it strange that she would make such a remark to him, if she was interested in having him as a suitor, which she seemed to be. Still, perhaps she had spoken without thinking.

Since he had an afternoon appointment with two tradesmen, they turned their steps back toward the palace, but as they made their way up through the town he invited, "I think my horse would enjoy a gallop on the beach. Would you care to join me tomorrow for such an outing? I am sure Lord Elphir can provide a suitable mount for you if you do not have one of your own."

She wrinkled her nose with distaste. "I thank you for the offer, my lord, but I must say no. I do not care much for horses. They are far too big and smelly. Honestly, I have never even learned to ride for that very reason!"

She seemed almost proud of this _achievement_, if it might be deemed such, and Eomer was at a loss for words. Taken together with her earlier comment about only living by the sea, he could not see any likely future for the two of them. Quietly he told her, "I think you do not know what you are missing, my lady, but that is your choice."

From then on they walked mostly in silence, except when she spoke and he responded. As they parted at the entrance to her home, Eomer knew that he was bidding her farewell for good. There was no doubt that she was off his list. A queen of the Mark who did not like horses? Out of the question!

Eomer busied himself with meetings the next couple of days, but during that time an invitation came, from the other lady he had considered, for the king and his hosts to join them at a small supper party in her father's home. As this seemed a good beginning to furthering the acquaintance, they accepted. At the appointed time, Elphir, Alcathir and Eomer walked the short distance, arriving in a timely manner. They were shown into a small sitting room where other guests had gathered, awaiting the call to supper. As he took a glass of wine a servant was distributing, he looked around for Lady Vaniel, but did not see her in the room.

He knew how busy such occasions could be for Eowyn when she had presided at Meduseld, so he assumed the lady was assisting her mother in seeing that all was in readiness. Elphir introduced him to those he had not previously met, but after nearly a quarter of an hour Eomer began to fidget. He could not imagine what the delay might be in seeing them seated, and if there was a problem why had nothing been said to the guests to keep them informed?

Beside him, Lord Vanendil, Vaniel's doting father smiled tolerantly and advised, "We await my daughter, my lord. She should be along soon."

Eomer's eyes narrowed and he shifted impatiently. He certainly hoped it was not as it appeared from this remark – an intentional delay. _She had better have a very good reason for keeping them all waiting_, he thought. He valued promptness, and this wait was intolerable. He was sorely tempted to offer some excuse and leave now, but he mastered the impulse, deciding retaliatory rudeness was not the best course of action.

Another five minutes later, Vaniel finally wafted down the stairs to join them in the parlor, a wide smile on her face. Her eyes found the king and she immediately made her way over, offering an elegant curtsy and then striking an alluring pose. "Worth the wait, I hope!" she said coyly, dipping her head enough so that she was looking up at him through her long lashes.

For an instant, Eomer was speechless. _This, then, was it? There was nothing urgent that had delayed her? She had merely __been primping and kept everyone waiting while she did so?_ With difficulty, he restrained the angry outburst welling in him. After a moment, he said the only honest thing that came to his mind, "You look lovely."

If it was less than the gushing admiration she sought, she concealed her disappointment well, slipping a small white hand possessively around his arm as she made to steer him toward the dining room. "You are too kind, my lord!" she cooed. "Shall we eat?"

_Eat, yes,_ Eomer thought, _and as soon as possible afterwards I will be leaving your company, never to return. You certainly are not worth more of my time!_

Eomer had learned well how to smile and say the right things, even when his thoughts were elsewhere, so he suffered through the remainder of the evening. Perhaps sensing Eomer's lack of enthusiasm, Elphir provided an excuse for them not to remain overly long after the meal, and the three departed.

They were nearly back to the palace before Elphir ventured to ask, "The evening did not agree with you, Eomer?"

The king sighed, and glanced at his friend. "Is it the normal practice for ladies to inconvenience their guests by not being ready at the appointed hour, with no good excuse? I do not find that acceptable."

Alcathir smiled at her husband, receiving silent permission to be the one to respond. "Normal practice, no, but some do think it adds to their appeal. The lady was counting on making such a dramatic entrance as to be worth the delay, but obviously she misjudged your inclination toward her. Not everyone would be that inconsiderate, though, so I hope you will not judge all of Dol Amroth's ladies by this one."

He shook his head. "Of course not. I hold only Lady Vaniel to blame, and perhaps her parents for indulging such behavior. But I have no further interest in her. I find such rudeness to be inexcusable. A household emergency or some other such valid reason is understandable, but this? No."

"I fear, then," Elphir observed, "that you are back to where you began. You must continue your search for a bride."

They laughed together, though Eomer found the accuracy of his friend's words discouraging.

Eomer remained another three days at Dol Amroth, but then set out for Minas Tirith. Elphir kindly lent them a guide for the overland journey. While pleased with the outcome of his meetings in the south, and his examination of the Dimholt as a passage for quicker travel, Eomer could not feel good about his efforts at seeking a wife. He used some of the time on the trip north to reflect on his past efforts, and decided that perhaps he was dismissing the ladies too quickly, not giving them sufficient time to grow on his affections. He determined that for his further efforts he would try to be more patient and see if time improved the situation.

Overland it took nine days to make the trek and at this time of year, the weather was fair and the outing most pleasant. Their guide knew well the road to the White City, but as they rode on, Eomer grew ever more eager with each league to see his sister once more. And, in the back of his mind was the idea that perhaps he would finally at long last meet Lothiriel, and see for himself if all he had heard was true.

TBC

Rohan women:

Afrehold – "perpetually loyal" (ch 3)

Fegenferth – "happy heart" (ch 6)

Mithanmag – "hidden woman" (ch 1)

Rohan male (mentioned):

Aldfrid – "old peace"

Gondor women:

Ardagnir – "bane of royals" (MT) (ch 5)

Balardil – "lover of power" (MT) (ch 2)

Gaermil – "sea lover" (DA) (ch 4)

Pethmil – "lover of words" (MT) (ch 2)

Vaniel – "beautiful daughter" (DA) (ch 4)

Gondor men:

Angamor – "black iron" (ch 7)

Belcam – "strong hand" (ch 3)

Faramil – "sufficient affection" (ch 6)

Pethraug – "demon words" (ch 4)

Tarendil – "friend of kings" (ch 2)

Vanendil – "lover of beauty" (ch 4)


	5. Chapter 5

**Near Misses**

**Chapter 5**

(begins early June, 3020 III)

As it turned out, fate was again playing Eomer and Lothiriel false. Lothiriel, after the second discouraging outing with those seeking to woo her, was growing weary of the game, and looked to return home. She had been at Minas Tirith for more than a fortnight already, done the shopping she wanted to do and obtained the fabric for Alcathir, and enjoyed the company of her father and brother. Now it was time to go home. Alcathir was always happy to have her assistance in running the household while she cared for two young children, and Aunt Ivriniel preferred Lothiriel's companionship to anyone else.

She suffered a tearful farewell with her family, promising to return in a few months if they did not join her in the south. Her boat was two days out of port from the Harlond when Eomer and his party rode into the City.

Aragorn was surprised, though certainly not displeased, to see his friend once more, and readily welcomed him. In her ever efficient way, Arwen managed to organize a small supper party of family and friends for that very evening. But when Imrahil entered with Amrothos, he cast a regretful smile at the young king. As they embraced, he chuckled, saying, "It would seem that once again you are thwarted, Eomer!"

Drawing back to look quizzically at the Prince, Eomer questioned, "What do you mean?"

"Lothiriel departed two days ago to return home," Imrahil replied, causing Eomer to shake his head.

"It is worse than you think, my friend – I just came from Dol Amroth! We rode over the Dimholt and I visited with Elphir for nearly two weeks. He lent us a guide to continue on!" Eomer explained ruefully.

"Now I am a little worried," Aragorn interjected, coming to join them and having overheard the conversation.

"Why so?" Imrahil asked, accepting a glass of wine from a servant.

"The difficulty we have had trying to introduce your daughter to Eomer – is it a good or bad omen, I wonder, that our efforts continually fail?" he responded, causing the others to laugh and he readily joined in.

"I cannot say which it is," Eomer confessed, "but certainly so far as being a possible bride is concerned, I remain unattached, so we need not worry in that regard!"

"Unless the lady has accepted someone," Aragorn argued, but Imrahil shook his head.

"No, Lothiriel is not spoken for as yet. None of those who have approached her have appealed to her, I fear."

"They have done more than not appeal to her," Amrothos added, from his father's side, "they have virtually put her off the whole idea of matrimony! With choices such as those, she likely would prefer spinsterhood and the company of her family!"

While all laughed at this assessment, Eomer shrugged. "Well, in that, the lady and I are of like mind. The search for a bride has been daunting, though in my case I must persevere. The Mark depends on me providing an heir, so I cannot walk away from the hunt."

"Then," Imrahil chuckled, "I suppose we are back to hoping you will meet my daughter and the two of you will find each other agreeable!"

The conversation flowed off in other directions after that, but it lingered in Eomer's thoughts. In many ways, he almost wished he could finally meet Imrahil's daughter so as to end the speculation. Certainly he would expect to like the lady, as he liked her other family members, but whether it would develop into something more he did not know. He knew there were marriages of convenience, and possibly the lady in question would be amenable to such if they were friendly, though nothing more, but he found it difficult to even consider such a notion. That was not how things were done in the Mark, and it was not how his parents had married – he preferred to follow their example in this matter. No, only if he were in extreme desperation could he ever settle on such a course.

It was three days before there was a dance scheduled, and Eomer had another opportunity to socialize. With his new battle plan in place, he surveyed the room for anyone who might catch his eye and inspire a closer acquaintance.

He could not say that any new ladies drew his notice. However, Lady Ardagnir was one he had considered with mild interest in the past, though not enough to pursue making the acquaintance. Thinking it time that he look a little deeper, he approached and asked her to dance. They had been introduced previously, but nothing beyond that. Still, if she was surprised by his invitation, she did not show it. With pleasure she accepted and they slipped in among the dancers taking their places.

"You are becoming a familiar sight in Minas Tirith, my Lord King," she said, smiling beguilingly at him as the dance brought them together. "A welcome development from Gondor's perspective!"

He smiled as they moved apart for several turns. "I thank you," he answered as they returned to proximity. "Our renewed alliance is a blessing to us all, and I have made good friends here."

The dance's movements did not allow for much in the way of consequential conversation, but once it was concluded, he escorted her to the refreshment table to obtain wine for each of them and then they settled at one of the unoccupied tables. Her warm and eager smile made it clear to Eomer that she was pleased to receive his attentions, even though he felt inept in making idle talk with a lady. He realized just how much of his time had been spent focusing solely on war and battles. Those were the words that came most readily to his lips, but he knew they would be of no interest to a noblewoman. The only other topic that easily came to mind was the rebuilding of the city.

"I notice much has been rebuilt since my last visit to the White City. It appears that Gondor will recover more quickly than Rohan does," Eomer observed, judging the comment one that might elicit a response from her, particularly one that might give him an idea of her thoughts on that recovery.

"Yes, slowly," she acknowledged. "We are still waiting for some buildings to be restored, and the shops do not have so much to offer as they did before, but we are making progress. At least the gate is in place once more. I feel so much safer now, having it there."

His brow wrinkled in surprise when she said nothing of Rohan's recovery, but he reminded himself that she merely might not feel qualified to speak of it. Still, she had not said so much that he knew what more he could say at this early juncture. Falling back on the usual standby, he inquired, "Is Minas Tirith your native home, my lady, or do you come from elsewhere in Gondor."

"Oh, I was born here," she reasured him proudly. "Most of the great noble families were first citizens here. Some eventually spread to the outlying regions, such as Lossarnach, but the best of society is here, so that is less common. My family has resided in Minas Tirith for generations."

Eomer was not displeased when they were joined just then by Aragorn and Arwen, and he allowed his Gondorian counterpart to guide the conversation after that. He still was not certain how strong his interest could ever be in Lady Ardagnir, but he was determined to give it more time than he had the others, to see if something would develop.

His attention had wandered with his own thoughts, but he was brought back to the present by a question from Aragorn. "We are riding out to Osgiliath tomorrow, Eomer. Faramir wishes to determine what might be done to restore that city, and Arwen has never seen it. Will you join us?"

"Oh, yes, my lord, let us go," Lady Ardagnir interjected.

Eomer was not certain that Aragorn had intended to include her in the invitation, but then he should not have posed the question in front of her if that was the case. Such an outing would allow Eomer to see Ardagnir in a less formal setting, so he nodded. "I would be happy to come. What time shall I be ready to ride?"

"Meet us at the stables around seven and we will depart as soon as everyone is gathered. Arwen will arrange a meal to go with us for our noonday repast," Aragorn answered. "I will have a party of guards accompanying me, so you need not bring very many."

"Shall I ride in the queen's carriage or bring my own?" Ardagnir questioned, and the king hesitated as he looked at her.

"Arwen was intending to ride her horse. Shall you not ride also, my lady? Everyone else will be on horseback," he told her.

"Oh, no. I could never ride that far!" she exclaimed. "I will bring my small carriage. It will be much easier that way."

Eomer looked down, wondering at her audacity. If she was not inclined to ride as everyone else was doing, he would have expected her to decline the trip so as not to hamper them, yet she seemed untroubled by that possibility. He was beginning to regret her inclusion already, though he fought to suppress it. He must be patient and give her time.

He settled on only taking Eothain with him, and crossed the room to advise his friend to be ready the next morning. A few more dances, with ladies who did not hold his interest for longer than the dance took, and he called it an early evening. Walking back to his room, he resisted the temptation to rethink his new strategy. While his instincts in battle were excellent, he could not be sure that quickly deciding against a woman was a good thing. Sometimes it merely took awhile to get to know someone and see their true character. He must be patient, even if it was not his strongest trait.

The overcast morning sky might have been an omen, but Eomer dismissed it as he dressed and breakfasted in his room. A little rain never hurt anyone, especially in summer. Eothain joined him as he exited to the hall, and they walked together in silence to the stables.

It had been decided that they would collect Lady Ardagnir at her home along the way. She was to have her carriage come to pick her up there. Eomer was not surprised to find his friends and their escort already gathering at the stables. All had arrived at very nearly the same time, and everyone was quickly mounted. He looked forward to such an excursion, and Eomer was glad Aragorn had suggested it.

They arrived at Lady Ardagnir's home, and the carriage was waiting but the lady was not in sight. Aragorn sent one of his guards to advise that they were come, but it was another ten minutes before the lady exited her home to join them. She had two maids accompanying her, and Eomer raised an eyebrow at her needing that much assistance on an easy day jaunt. Once Ardagnir was finally settled in her carriage, they set off down the hill.

It was probably wrong of him to do so, but Eomer did not ride near the carriage, fearing Ardagnir might expect him to join her there for all or part of the trip. A weak sun had appeared to follow them on their journey, despite the heavy clouds still threatening rain. He wanted to sit in a saddle and enjoy the fresh air and what little sunshine was to be had. Squashed into a carriage with three women did not suit him.

They took only two rest stops, but Ardagnir did not leave the carriage for either of them. It was becoming increasingly unclear to Eomer why she had even wanted to come, since the best things about the outing were those she was avoiding. He had managed to only speak a few words with her the entire morning, but as they drew near to Osgiliath he suspected that would change.

Their arrival at Osgiliath coincided with everyone being ready to eat, and Faramir led them to the least destroyed of the buildings that was most likely to be amenable. While others had seen to their horses, Ardagnir did nothing more than descend from her carriage with her attendants, who began to unload items onto the ground. Eomer watched in wonder at the amount of things they had brought, until his reverie was interrupted by Lady Ardagnir waving him closer.

"Shall we go in, my lord?" she asked, taking his arm. "The servants will bring my things."

Eomer glanced back at the pile, and the two women beside it, before remarking, "I am not sure those two can manage all of that. Perhaps I should help them."

"Oh, no. That is not necessary. Have your man help them, if you wish. It is not for us to do such things," she blithely assured him.

For a moment, he was startled, and not sure who she meant by 'his man', but then her glance at Eothain made it plain. His jaw tightened in annoyance with this mean dismissal of his guard and comrade. Eothain was many things, first and foremost Eomer's closest friend, but never had he ever thought of him as a 'servant'.

Before he could respond, however, Eothain stepped forward and bowed. Perhaps suspecting Eomer's natural reaction, he offered, "I should be happy to assist the ladies, my lord. We will join you in a moment."

"Thank you, _my friend_," Eomer replied, emphasizing the final word. He might allow Eothain to be courteous in the face of such treatment, but he would not condone it. Even so, he was not sure that Ardagnir had even noticed.

He led the way to where everyone was settling, and Arwen and Eowyn were already laying out food on a table that had managed to survive. Ardagnir wrinkled her nose, not seeming too pleased with their dining location, but he could not imagine what she had thought it would be like. Surely she had understood that the city was in ruins, even more so after the recent war. He steered her toward a battered bench to seat her, but she balked, saying, "They will bring a chair for me to use. That is far too dirty to sit upon."

Freeing himself from her grasp, he replied, "I will go and see if Aragorn and Faramir need any help." It wasn't his real reason, of course, but he was finding her company increasingly irritating. He tried to remind himself that she was a woman born to more refined circumstances, and that this rough wildness was not something familiar to her, but it did little to appease him.

Already, the other two men had scrounged up seats for everyone to sit upon and carried them to this chamber, and the cold dinner was ready in only minutes. Meanwhile, Eothain and the maids had arrived with Ardagnir's belongings and she was settled upon a chair, making no effort to help with preparations.

When the food was ready, everyone gathered and began filling a plate, though Eomer noticed Ardagnir sent a maid to bring a plate of food to her. Resigning himself that he must be polite, he went to sit near her, on the same 'dirty' bench that she had refused. He noticed her appalled look at him doing so, but did not care. He had done it on purpose, though he felt sure the point was lost on her.

After they had eaten, Faramir led them through the ruins, showing them what little was left of the Dome of Stars, and telling what some of the still-standing buildings had once housed. Ardagnir joined them briefly, but then began to complain that the uneven ground and rubble was too difficult for her. Eomer did not offer to escort her back to the dining chamber, leaving that task to her maids. Though her face reflected her disappointment, she said nothing to him.

Once she was gone, the outing became far more enjoyable for the remaining group, and everyone took care not to mention their unwelcome fellow traveler. "Will you rebuild here, then?" Eomer asked, as they gazed out over the Anduin from the site where the orcs had landed in the attack that had overcome Gondor's forces.

Faramir deferred to his king, and Aragorn nodded. "Yes, though it may take some time. I always longed to see Osgiliath bright and gleaning, a jewel in Gondor's crown, as she once was in days of old when the kings of Gondor ruled from here. Like Faramir, I would see that beauty restored." He looked at Eomer and added, "This city is not unlike Aldburg for you, my friend. If Aldburg were destroyed, I am sure you would rebuild her, though Edoras is now your home."

Eomer nodded his understanding, and glanced around. "Despite the damage, there is still some good stone. Perhaps Gimli would bring some dwarves and help with the rebuilding here. Their work at the Hornburg has been exceptional. Much has been repaired already."

Aragorn chuckled. "I might just do that! And I do not think he will mind getting away from Legolas' trees for awhile! He still prefers stone to wood, given a choice, but at least the trees in Ithilien do not speak."

Everyone joined in the laughter, even more so when Faramir commented, "Perhaps they do not have the voice of an Ent, but the trees of Ithilien do speak to a man's soul. Legolas is quite right."

"Do not tell Gimli that," Aragorn admonished. "He has more than had his fill of talking trees, though from what he has said, he would very much like to visit Rohan once more and again witness the Glittering Caves at the Deep."

"He is always welcome in the Mark. I am sure Erkenbrand will admit him even if I have not specifically ordered it," Eomer assured.

They had been there nearly two hours, so it was decided it might be best to begin the trek homeward so as to complete most of the trip before nightfall. Lady Ardagnir had already retired to her carriage, and some of her belongings had been repacked. Clearly the lady wished to leave as soon as possible. Eothain voluntarily carried the remaining heavier items to the carriage and stowed them, before rejoining the riders.

Eomer was tired on the trip back, though the day itself had hardly been particularly taxing. After a moment's reflection, he realized it had more to do with the tiresome attitude of Ardagnir, that had put a damper on the day. The sun that had struggled earlier now fell victim to the dark clouds, and everyone drew on their cloaks only minutes before the rain began to fall. They traveled in a steady drizzle for the remainder of the journey.

They wasted no time in excusing themselves from Ardagnir's company at her gate, leaving a myriad of servants bustling to attend her. The riders hastened on up the hill and saw their horses settled and cared for, before going in to enjoy dry clothing and a hot meal, in that order.

It took Eomer two days before he could face seeing Ardagnir again. His misgivings were growing ever stronger, but his stubbornness would not allow him to admit to failure without giving it more time. Eowyn invited her to join them for supper, along with a few others, and Ardagnir had quickly agreed. All in all the supper went well. Nothing was said or done that set Eomer on edge, and he began to think he was making progress toward his goal. At the very least, his persistence seemed to be bearing fruit, even if it did not end in marriage with this particular woman.

Before she departed that evening, Ardagnir invited, "My lord, would you care to join me for a venture into town? I could show you the improvements that have been made since last you came to Minas Tirith, and I have some shops that I must visit."

Even though walks about town hadn't gone well in the past, it seemed a safe choice. "Of course. I am interested to see the White City's progress. If we meet late morning, we can see to your shopping and then stop for a meal at one of the taverns."

She was clearly delighted by his acceptance, and gave him her most winning smile. Once she was gone, he turned to find Eowyn eyeing him appraisingly. After a moment, she moved over to link arms with him as they climbed the stairs toward their rooms. "She interests you?" his sister asked, as they reached the top of the stairs.

He shrugged. "Enough. I will see if anything is to come of it. I am persuaded I have not looked closely enough in the past. I want to give the acquaintance time to form on solid ground."

Uncharacteristically, Eowyn remained silent. Eomer knew her too well to think that was by accident. "You do not approve?"

Eowyn came to a halt, turning to face him. "She is…I just am not sure that she is right for you, or for the Mark. That is all."

He knew there was more to it than that. "Is this about Lothiriel?" he questioned. "Are you still hoping I will meet her and she will be my choice?"

She looked up defiantly. "If it came down to a choice between the two of them, I would choose Lothiriel. And if you had met her, I think you would also. I am simply saying, do not be in such a hurry to find a wife that you offer for the first one you can tolerate. There should be more to it than that. I only want your happiness."

"And you believe I will find happiness with Lothiriel, but none of the other prospects?" he asked, resting his hands on her shoulders, intently meeting her gaze.

Eowyn sighed. "I do not know. Perhaps not, but until you have met her I hold out that hope. She truly is a remarkable woman, Eomer. I do think you would find her very much to your liking."

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Then I hope it comes to pass. But I cannot delay my life until that happens. Still, as you say, I will not offer for a woman out of desperation. If I have no feelings for her, I will not marry her. Trust me to have some sense!"

She laughed and nodded, then bid him goodnight. Eomer watched her walking down the hall for a moment, then entered his room. She was right, of course, that he shouldn't act in haste. And, in general, he trusted Eowyn's judgement, so if she thought he would like Lothiriel, it made him believe it would be so. But it was not his fault they had not yet met. It almost seemed as if destiny was determined to keep them apart. Was that perhaps an omen that it was not meant to be? He growled softly in frustration. Battle was so much easier and more straightforward than all this romance business!

xx

As agreed, Eomer went to meet Ardagnir at her home late the next morning. Fortunately, she only kept him waiting five minutes, clearly eager to share his company. As they stepped out into the street, Eothain fell into his customary place several paces behind them, watching for any trouble.

Eomer was not especially attentive to where Ardagnir was leading him, but after several stops for her to gaze in windows, he began to notice that it was more than the shop's contents that interested her. It took a moment to register what she was doing, but then it struck him that she was essentially attempting to flaunt her companion to those around them. At each stop, she caught more closely at his arm and raised her voice to draw his notice to something or other, always using his title so that it would be overheard by others. Now that he thought about it, he was not sure he had ever heard her actually say his name – she always referred to him with some form of title. As they progressed into the busiest parts of town, her efforts to parade her prize became even more pronounced, and it was beginning to grate on his nerves.

Luckily, a messenger approached him just then and he excused himself to step away for a few minutes to receive the message Aragorn had sent to him about an afternoon meeting that was being rescheduled, and to give reply that it was acceptable to him. The interruption eased his annoyance so he would not say anything out of turn to Ardagnir about her behavior.

When he turned back, to go and rejoin her, he saw that a friend had approached her while he was conducting this bit of business. Even at this distance, her voice carried to him, causing his temper to flare once more.

"It is so wonderful! I feel sure he will name me queen of Rohan any day now! Can you just imagine!" she crowed triumphantly, her eyes flicking around to make sure she had been overheard. She was gratified to see passersby turning to look at her with interest, eager to catch more of this gossip.

Eothain's gaze shifted to view Eomer from the corner of his eyes, noting the grim scowl that had appeared. After a moment, he murmured quietly, "Do you suppose that the lady knows that 'he' has a name?"

"Little matter," growled Eomer in response, "seeing as she will not be sharing my company hereafter."

Eothain shrugged in acknowledgement. "Fair point," he answered, then glanced back at Ardagnir momentarily before asking, "Will you bid her good day, or shall I make your excuses for you not to continue on your outing?"

"Say whatever you wish to her, or nothing at all. It matters not to me," Eomer declared, turning on his heel and starting up the hill.

For a heartbeat, Eothain hesitated, thinking he should do the polite thing, but then shrugged again and followed his king. Courtesy should be earned and this woman had not done so. Her presumption was astonishing. What king would want a bride who told the whole world of his private matters?

Neither man knew how long Ardagnir waited there for Eomer's return, but after an hour, during which her friend had fortunately departed, she began to realize he was not coming back. And a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach told her it was not by accident. Utterly humiliated, she slowly made her way home, and later voiced it around that she had decided against Rohan's king; that after learning more of that land she thought it not to her liking. If anyone disbelieved her assertions, they did not tell her so.

TBC

Ch 5 footnote: Despite what was seen in PJ's movie of The Two Towers, Osgiliath was mostly deserted due to a plague in the mid-Third Age and largely in ruins already by the time of the Ring War. Likely it was mostly still used as a military outpost to guard against invasion from Mordor, across the bridge there (the only such crossing point of the Anduin, not requiring a boat). During one battle in the eastern part of Osgiliath, when it was clear they were to lose, Faramir and Boromir destroyed the bridge to prevent the enemy from readily crossing the river to western Osgiliath. Sauron's forces in East Osgiliath built many barges and floating bridges to enable their crossing, and with aid of the Nazgul managed to overwhelm Faramir's forces and take West Osgiliath prior to their siege of Minas Tirith. After the battle of the Pelennor, all available workers were sent to strengthen the defenses of Osgiliath and rebuild the boats and bridges that Sauron's forces left behind. This enable the Army to march to the Black Gate. After the war, the Host returned via Osgiliath, staying there a day and night before coming to Minas Tirith for Aragorn's coronation. And, no, there weren't tunnels under the Anduin, but since Frodo and Sam didn't go that way, they didn't need them anyway! (They had already crossed the Anduin when the Fellowship split, and they met Faramir on the eastern side.)

Rohan women:

Afrehold – "perpetually loyal" (ch 3)

Fegenferth – "happy heart" (ch 6)

Mithanmag – "hidden woman" (ch 1)

Rohan male (mentioned):

Aldfrid – "old peace"

Gondor women:

Ardagnir – "bane of royals" (MT) (ch 5)

Balardil – "lover of power" (MT) (ch 2)

Gaermil – "sea lover" (DA) (ch 4)

Pethmil – "lover of words" (MT) (ch 2)

Vaniel – "beautiful daughter" (DA) (ch 4)

Gondor men:

Angamor – "black iron" (ch 7)

Belcam – "strong hand" (ch 3)

Faramil – "sufficient affection" (ch 6)

Pethraug – "demon words" (ch 4)

Tarendil – "friend of kings" (ch 2)

Vanendil – "lover of beauty" (ch 4)


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: A couple of reminders: 1) I mark my stories "complete" even though I have not finished posting them yet. It merely lets you know that they are completely written and you WILL get to read the entire story. [I had forgotten to do it initially and just did it Sunday, and a sharp-eyed reader noticed.] 2) Anonymous reviews are fine, but remember that I cannot respond to any questions or comments you make if you do not leave an email address, or are logged in as an ffn member so I can Private Message you. 3) Yes, E and L will meet soon (ch 7) and ch 8 and 9 are the longest ones in the story. So you will get quite a bit of E and L together.  
**

**Near Misses**

**Chapter 6**

Both Lothiriel and Eomer departed Minas Tirith discouraged with the course of their romantic affairs. Each was reluctant to continue facing such unappealing suitors, despite their inclination to find a mate and start a family.

Because Eomer's circumstances were more demanding that he resume his search, he was the first to yield and begin again. At the Harvest Festival that year, he looked to like, and settled on Fegenferth as his new prospect. You could hardly live in Edoras without knowing most of the others who also called it home, but he could not say that he ever recalled being in her company before. She was a tiny thing, considerably shorter than he was, but quite pretty and outgoing in her manner. He watched her dance past him with other men several times before finally approaching her to be his partner.

The difference in their respective sizes meant it was more challenging keeping step with one another, but her merry attitude made it more pleasant than frustrating. As he shared her company, he soon discovered why he knew little of her. Her family had not settled at Edoras until after he had already joined an eored and spent more time in the East-mark. Though he may have seen her while on his visits home, likely she was young enough then not to claim his notice, and he had been gone so much in recent years he knew there were many people unfamiliar to him.

He liked her…she had an appealing manner and spoke sensibly. Though he could not detect any particular partiality toward him, she did receive his attentions with obvious pleasure. And she was a woman of the Mark – that certainly counted in her favor. Yet, for all this, Eomer could not say that she inspired any passion in him. "Like" was the appropriate word, but certainly it was not love. He had heard that love could be learned, if the participants were willing, so perhaps in time that would come. They would be in one another's company several times over the next few months. He would open himself to the possibility that something might come of it, and that she would grow on his affections.

xx

It wasn't until Mettare that Lothiriel again allowed anyone to approach her beyond the superficial. She danced at feasts, she spoke to those seated near her at suppers or other events, but she did not encourage anyone further than friendly discourse. The last couple of times, she had noticed Amrothos watching her, raising a questioning eyebrow though he never spoke to her about her reticence. She knew his thoughts, but it was difficult to face such bleak choices as lay before her.

As it happened, a second son of a merchant from Edhellond came to her father's Mettare celebration. She did not recall having met Lord Faramil before, but as they were seated beside one another for the meal, she inquired about him. To her surprise, he was charming and interesting. The focus of his conversation was not entirely on himself, or boastful to gain her admiration. He told humorous tales, confessed to embarrassing mistakes on occasion, and acknowledged that he had far greater freedom than his elder brother who was heir to their father's business. He had nice, kind eyes, and a gentle way about him. At the end of the meal, she realized that she liked him quite a bit and would not be averse to spending more time in his company. It was clear that he felt similarly as he invited her to go riding with him the next day, and they spent the remainder of his visit to Dol Amroth going on various outings or merely sitting in the library and talking.

The day he departed for home, he came to farewell her, and she watched him ride away with the traveling party. She did not love him as yet, but perhaps in time that would come. Certainly he was the likeliest prospect she had encountered in a long while. Maybe there was still hope.

xxxxx

(late Jan, 3021 III)

Eowyn rubbed her hand lightly over her swollen stomach, lost in thought as she sat in a late afternoon patch of sunlight still making itself felt through the window. For all the darkness that had led her to war in Gondor, great good had also come from that choice. Life as Faramir's wife was a joy, and carrying his child only made it more so. Yet one thing was missing to make her joy complete – to see her brother equally content in a marriage to a lady of his choosing.

His recent letter mentioned a young lady with whom he spent time on occasion, but she could not detect any enthusiasm or particular regard for the girl in his words. She very much suspected that loneliness, and pressure from his advisers to provide a queen and heir, were pushing him to choose any reasonably agreeable person he could find.

Lothiriel, too, had written a fortnight ago, and her missive similarly spoke of a young man whose company she had been sharing. She did not doubt that Lothiriel liked him well enough, but he was listed on the page among all her other activities, and Eowyn could not believe the man claimed her heart.

For all they said in their correspondence with Eowyn, she remained convinced that Lothiriel and her brother would suit one another best. But fate was frustratingly defeating their meeting. _Well_, she thought decisively, _fate would just have to be given a nudge, before they could do something foolish._ Rising slowly, she made her way to the desk and brought out writing paper and pen.

_Dearest Brother,_

_I know that you have been away from the Mark much more than you expected or wanted to be this past year, but I would ask a very great favor of you. I will understand if you do not think you can do it, but with the birth of my babe so near, I should like to have my family near. It is not that I am fearful or worried, but the prospect of motherhood draws my thoughts continually to those dear to me, and makes me all the more aware of how little family I have left to share such events._

_If you believe you could consider such a visit, I would very much appreciate it. The midwife and several other women well acquainted with birthing feel sure I will deliver within a month's time. I will hope you can be here to share in my joy._

_Love, Eowyn_

She reread the letter through twice, satisfied that it would have the desired effect. Nothing in his letters had suggested he was so overwhelmed that he could not manage some time away from Edoras to do as she asked. She knew her brother well, and he would do whatever was needed to accommodate her. She would let that play to her advantage in this instance. Now for the other missive that needed sending.

_My dear Lothiriel,_

_It seems so long since I have had the pleasure of seeing you. Perhaps as the birth of my babe draws nearer, I think more often of what little family I have left to me, and surely as Faramir's cousin I may count you as such. But beyond that, you have become a most dear friend, and I have a request to make that I hope will not inconvenience you. Would it be too much to ask for you to come and be with me during these final weeks of waiting? I am sure the midwife knows what she is doing and all the servants are most capable, but I would feel more at ease to have you near me at this time. You have such a calm, reassuring manner about you that I find it easy to be at peace and trust that all will be well._

_If you think you could do this, I would like it very much. The midwife believes I shall deliver within a month's time. I shall hope you can be here to share this with me._

_Fondly, Eowyn_

Eowyn smiled to herself as she sealed the second letter. Like her brother, Lothiriel would be eager to please her, and she felt confident the request would be honored. Repeatedly Lothiriel had shown a nurturing spirit, and Eowyn was sure she had played on her sympathies enough with this letter to ensure her coming. Shoving awkwardly up from the chair, she headed for Faramir's study, not surprised to find him poring over many papers scattered across the top of his desk.

"My love, would you see that these letters go out with the next couriers?" She held them out, and he took them, glancing to see where they were going.

With a raised eyebrow, he remarked, "Your brother _and_ my cousin? You have been busy, beloved." Then his eyes narrowed slightly as he noted the somewhat smug expression on his wife's face. "Or is there more to this than a sudden wish to correspond with distant relations?"

Eowyn shrugged, making no effort to deflect his suspicions. Cryptically, she told him, "In Rohan we do not believe in waiting for good things to come – we seek after them. What fate will not do on its own, I shall lend a hand."

Faramir chuckled as he tossed the letters in a stack with some others of his own. "I see! And may I hazard a guess that the main purpose, if not the sole purpose, is to bring both of these individuals to Minas Tirith at the same time, so they may not continue to avoid meeting?"

"It is," Eowyn told him unabashedly.

He held out an arm to his wife and she came to lean against him. "I have never envisioned you as matchmaker, sweetness! Does pending motherhood prompt such strange behavior in my wife?" he teased.

Eowyn smiled, but admitted, "Normally I would not do such a thing, but I am tired of all these near misses they have been having. I would get it over with. Either they will suit or not, but at least we will all know."

"An admirable goal, love, and I hope it works as you intend. We should all of us like to see the both of them find happiness, whether with each other or another. But possibly they cannot find happiness with another until they have met and _know_ it is not to be found with each other."

xx

Eowyn had rightly judged the effect her letters would have on the recipients.

No sooner had Eomer received his than he began making plans for an extended visit to Mundburg. He set out within the week, completely unsuspecting of his sister's motives, but eager to see her again, and welcome Eowyn's child into the world. It was strange to think of his little sister as a mother, but he believed her capable of anything to which she set her mind. And, despite his difficult childhood and youth, Eomer saw every evidence that Faramir would be a good father. He was calm, caring, and insightful. His exceeding patience would help offset Eowyn's impetuous nature. Together they would overcome any challenges of parenthood.

Likewise, Lothiriel began preparing for the journey north following her letter of reply assuring Eowyn she would be there with all speed. Imrahil had intended to return to the White City soon anyway, and thus he arranged his schedule so as to sail with his daughter. His two younger sons also decided to come along for awhile, though they were not determined to finish out the winter in the north as Lothiriel was. She believed Eowyn would welcome her presence for more than just a brief time surrounding the babe's birth, and so intended to stay several months and be at hand.

The distance from Dol Amroth was shorter than from Edoras, and the southern party set out more quickly, so Imrahil's family arrived at Minas Tirith within two weeks' time. Eomer would not arrive for almost another week, though Eowyn neglected to mention that detail to anyone.

Despite being more than eight months along in her pregnancy, Eowyn still moved well and was not nearly so encumbered as Lothiriel had envisioned her to be. Even so, she thought perhaps Eowyn's desire for her attendance likely had more to do with an emotional need rather than physical aid, and that she could readily supply. She was greeted warmly by both Eowyn and Faramir when she came to their door less than an hour after her family took up residence in their townhouse. Her friend had not been much showing her condition when last she saw her, so it was a little startling to see her now, so round and full.

The two women spent a pleasant afternoon catching up on news. Though Faramir visited with them briefly, and popped in occasionally, he had other business that kept him occupied most of the time. "I am so pleased you came," Eowyn said, smiling at her friend as they partook of a light supper together. "I was not sure you would wish to come north during the cold winter months."

"For you, I would do it," Lothiriel assured her. "And it is a new experience for me. You are right that I usually stay in the warmer climes when the cold winds blow, but that does not mean that I am some fragile flower that will succumb to the chill!"

Eowyn laughed, privately thinking that if her hopes panned out, Lothiriel would find herself wintering in an even colder place!

"What is it that you are not telling me?" Lothiriel suddenly questioned, noticing something in Eowyn's countenance that suggested she was keeping a secret.

Thinking quickly, Eowyn told her, "Only that if you find Minas Tirith cold, you would think my homeland moreso. We suffer more wind there and that will make the chill cut right through you if you do not dress appropriately. Still, it is beautiful there. I think you would like it."

Lothiriel smiled at her, not entirely convinced that was the whole of Eowyn's thoughts, but willing to overlook it. "I am sure I would. I was sorry not to be able to visit when Father went to see King Theoden buried. It is remarkable that after so much time of suspicion and distrust our lands know peace and fraternity again."

"Perhaps in the spring your brothers will take you," Eowyn offered. "The plains are glorious when the wildflowers bloom and the grass is thick. Eomer has struggled seeing our people and lands restored, but he says they have made good progress. Soon horse herds will dot the plains again."

Lothiriel sipped at her tea, then asked, "They wintered well, then? Father indicated that there was much suffering last year, but that he thought things had gone better this time."

"Yes," Eowyn said, nodding. "The Westfold is still in difficulty as the land was burned, and finding land that will sustain crops is difficult. The Eastfold was more protected and fared better, so Eomer focused sowing more there to feed the Westfold until they can be reestablished. And it is safer now to graze the herds on the open plains so that feed does not need to be gathered in for them as when they were kept more closely sheltered." She sighed. "There was so much to overcome. I know Eomer has been greatly beleaguered by it all. He has struggled in his role as king because of the challenges, but he is strong and determined. He will not fail."

Lothiriel smiled. "Of course not! Father and my brothers speak most firmly on his strength of will. It served him well on the battlefield, and it will serve him equally well in the royal court. Sometimes determination is half the battle."

Eowyn returned her smile, light amusement sparking behind her eyes. _Oh, yes, these two would suit each other very well or she was sadly mistaken!_

It became the general practice thereafter for Lothiriel to check in with Eowyn each day and see what assistance she might require. If she felt up to some exercise, sometimes Eowyn would walk about the town with her to a few near shops, though the long climb back up the hill was too taxing for her to venture farther than the fourth circle.

As they drew nearer to Eomer's expected arrival, Eowyn thought to mention his coming, so as the two women enjoyed afternoon tea on a rainy day, she voiced the subject to see what reaction it brought.

"I have not told you," Eowyn remarked casually, "but I have heard from my brother. He is coming to be with me for the birth of my child. He is most eager to greet his niece or nephew."

"I would imagine so," Lothiriel responded, remaining impassive despite an odd twinge at this news. "Until he has an heir of his own, your child will be the one to inherit Rohan's throne."

Eowyn's countenance sobered as she nodded. An astute observation, though not one she had expected. "Yes, and that alone may pose...difficulty."

For an instant, Lothiriel eyed her questioningly, but then her eyes brightened with understanding. "Indeed. Your child will inherit a title of its own. It would be better for your brother to provide his own heir." As she gazed thoughtfully at Eowyn, she thought she detected a glimmer of smugness, carefully restrained below the surface.

Glancing down at her cup, as she took another sip of tea, she pondered that. And then realization flooded through her – it was not chance that brought both Lothiriel and Eomer to Minas Tirith at this time. No, unless she was very much mistaken, it was intended, even planned. Possibly that should have bothered her, but she only found it amusing. Their families were so determined they should meet; it appeared it would finally happen. She could not say that she minded, though. Lothiriel wanted to meet Eomer, if for no other reason than curiosity. Everyone was so convinced they suited each other – what would be their opinion on the matter?

If Eowyn expected more of a response, Lothiriel did not provide it. The woman seemed neither pleased nor displeased by her news about Eomer's coming. She supposed she would simply have to wait for them to meet face to face, and see where it led.

xx

Despite predictions that Eowyn was very near to giving birth, there was little evidence that it was immediately in the offing. Lothiriel learned of Eomer's arrival in the city, and made it a point not to be at Eowyn's home near that time. All of this was feeling too forced, and she did not wish such pressure to make them uncomfortable with one another. Sooner or later they would be in one another's company. She could wait until then. Likely Eowyn would mention to her brother that Lothiriel was here, and she could not help wondering how he would behave upon learning of it. Would he suspect her of being involved in this maneuvering in some way? Would he think she was pursuing him? She certainly hoped not, and that he would realize she was being manipulated by others the same as he was and hold her blameless.

TBC

Rohan women:

Afrehold – "perpetually loyal" (ch 3)

Fegenferth – "happy heart" (ch 6)

Mithanmag – "hidden woman" (ch 1)

Rohan male (mentioned):

Aldfrid – "old peace"

Gondor women:

Ardagnir – "bane of royals" (MT) (ch 5)

Balardil – "lover of power" (MT) (ch 2)

Gaermil – "sea lover" (DA) (ch 4)

Pethmil – "lover of words" (MT) (ch 2)

Vaniel – "beautiful daughter" (DA) (ch 4)

Gondor men:

Angamor – "black iron" (ch 7)

Belcam – "strong hand" (ch 3)

Faramil – "sufficient affection" (ch 6)

Pethraug – "demon words" (ch 4)

Tarendil – "friend of kings" (ch 2)

Vanendil – "lover of beauty" (ch 4)


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: In honor of my having a few days off, I decided not to wait until Thursday to put you out of your misery! As I think it important that you know what each of them is thinking, the POV will switch back and forth between them, sort of a mental dance, if you will. Hopefully, I have written it in such a way so as not to be too jarring or confusing.  
**

**Near Misses**

**Chapter 7**

As Lothiriel descended the staircase, she heard voices in the entry hall below and looked up from checking her list. A tall blond man stood there conversing with her father. He was not a conventionally handsome man, though there was a rugged appeal to him that she could not deny. Men of the nobility in Gondor tended to be much softer in appearance and careful in their dress; this man clearly gave little thought to mundane matters such as his person. That was not to say that his attire was unacceptable, but there was nothing preening about it. It had function more than form. The rich green color undeniably suited him well, making him striking to the eye. She could not doubt that this, then, was King Eomer of whom she had heard so much, and she was pleased to finally have the chance to make the man's acquaintance. But more than that, her stomach did a funny little flip, and somewhere in the back of her mind she had a vague sense that this man under her gaze was to be very important to her. A silly notion, she knew, but she could not shake it.

At just that moment, both men seemed to become aware of her presence for they looked in her direction. Imrahil held out a hand, signaling Lothiriel to join them, a broad smile on his face.

"Eomer, it is my very great pleasure to introduce my daughter, Lothiriel. Lothiriel, this is Eomer, King of Rohan."

She gave a curtsy, her gaze lowered demurely also, but with her rise from the gesture, her eyes met Eomer's. She wondered if he felt the twinge in his stomach that she had noticed, and the quickening of pulse as she drew near. On closer look, she saw that his nose was slightly crooked, as though it had been broken at some point, and a tiny scar just missed his left eye – a battle mishap, perhaps? Just by looking at him, she knew enough of soldiers to know this man was a confident and bold leader. Self-assurance radiated from him. The rule of Rohan may have passed to him through bloodlines, but she felt sure he had earned all his other accolades.

But the thing that riveted her most were his eyes, warm and alive. They had skimmed over her, head to foot, as she approached, and she sensed approval in that regard, but she did not think he was a man who was easily swayed by mere beauty. She had almost expected his eyes to be brown – they had seemed dark as she approached – but upon closer inspection she saw that they were more a shade of green, with flecks of gold in them when the light hit them a certain way. Despite the warmth in them, there was also reserve. This was not a man who would reveal all his secrets through an unguarded look. The warrior well knew how to keep his thoughts concealed.

"It is a very great pleasure to meet you at last, my lord king," she said, smiling up at him. She was a tall woman, but he was still several inches taller than any in her family.

"The pleasure is mine," Eomer replied instantly, surprised by how dry his throat suddenly felt. And why had the hair on the back of his neck prickled at the mere sight of her? He was not immune to beautiful women, and she was that, but this was something…more, though he was not sure what.

"Will you join us for conversation and then dinner, my dear?" Imrahil asked, but she shook her head.

"I was just headed out for some errands, Father." On a whim, she cocked her head slightly and suggested, "However, if Eomer King would wish to join me, we might become acquainted during our walk about town." Her audacity surprised her a little, but there was simply something about this man that inspired such lack of formality. She suspected her father would not be displeased to lose his dinner companion for such a reason, and Imrahil eagerly seconded the idea.

Eomer hesitated though. His previous walks about town with prospective brides, and surely Lothiriel must be counted in that number until such time as they decided against one another, had not gone well. Did he dare risk the same happening with her? Still, perhaps it was better to know as soon as possible if there was something objectionable about the lady, and certainly such flaws had been discovered on all his prior outings.

"I would be delighted to join you, my lady. But, I must insist that you be less formal. Please, call me Eomer, as do the rest of your family. I cannot think of you as a stranger," he replied.

"I thank you," she smiled, with a small nod of her head. "And you must call me Lothiriel, or Thiri as my family does." Turning to her father, she added, "I do not know how long we will be, Father, and possibly we will stop for a meal while we are out, so do not hold your meal on our account."

"That will be fine, dearest," Imrahil answered, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Enjoy yourselves. I am sure you will get along well."

Lothiriel pinked slightly. No pressure, then, for them to appeal to one another – only her entire family hoped and expected for the outcome to be marriage!

Eomer offered his arm as they turned to the door, bidding Imrahil farewell over his shoulder. The winter sun hit their faces as they emerged into the front courtyard, but Eomer could not quite believe that was the cause of the warmth suffusing him, for the air was still chill. Everything about this moment seemed perfectly right: the deep blue of the sky overhead, scattered with fluffy white clouds and a bright sun smiling down on them. And most right of all was the woman beside him. He could not say how he knew it, but he could not think anyone would suit him if she did not. It was irrational, he was sure, to feel so certain about someone he had only just met, but so it was. She was a beautiful woman, to be sure, but he had spent time in the company of many handsome women during his search for a bride. Beauty, though desirable, was not…enough. Yet without knowing a thing about her but what he had been told, Eomer's heart had leapt at his first glimpse of her and since had been totally conscious of her presence at his side. A place she very much seemed to belong. Now it merely needed to be proved to her that it was meant for them to be together. Hopefully this outing would be the first step in that direction.

An open smile painted his face, a rarity for he usually kept his thoughts to himself. But why should he hide from those around him his great elation at this moment?

"You are just arrived, Eomer?" Lothiriel asked as she steered their way down the hill toward the lower circles.

"Yes. We came yesterday. Eowyn wished me here for her child's birth, and I could not refuse her," he answered. "Have you been here long?"

She smiled down at the ground in amusement. "No, not so very long. It seems your sister desired both friends and family to be with her at this time. I am fairly sure we are each here by design, not coincidence!"

He was startled by this news, but chuckled, realizing he was not entirely surprised. He would not put it past Eowyn to plan this to force a meeting. She had never been patient. Even so, he could not say that he minded very much. It was as if he had been waiting for this introduction a lifetime. Now he could only hope everyone was right, and that they did find affection with each other. Certainly, for his part, he was inclined to think others had judged correctly. Whether the lady believed likewise, he did not yet know.

As they strolled, sometimes in silence that was not at all uncomfortable, each ventured general polite conversation on occasion. Lothiriel clearly had specific stops that she wished to make, for she did not waste time going to shops other than those where she had business. He was grateful for that as he had always found idle browsing to be tedious. They had reached the gate to the third circle around midday, and she suggested, "It is a little early, but as we got a late start would you wish to stop for a meal before we continue on?"

Eomer nodded agreeably. "Do you know of a place that is good?"

She considered a moment, then said, "Yes. Perhaps the Seven Bells – it is about halfway to the next gate."

Just as they passed through the gate, a voice called out, "My lord king!"

A small boy was running toward them, a broad grin on his face, and Lothiriel noticed that Eomer returned it with a warm smile of greeting. "Tarendil!"

As the lad joined them, he skidded breathlessly to a stop. "I have not seen you in a long while, my lord."

"I am just returned to the city from my homeland. My sister is going to have a baby," Eomer explained, causing the boy to wrinkle his nose before glancing at Lothiriel.

Observing his notice of her, Lothiriel took that as her cue to join their conversation. "And who might this be?" she asked with a smile.

"Tarendil is one of my guards," Eomer responded with a chuckle, causing the boy to beam proudly.

"Indeed! That is a very responsible duty for someone so young. You must be very good!"

Now the lad was embarrassed, but he mumbled, "I keep my eyes open, that's all!"

Eomer laid a hand on the boy's shoulder and explained, "He alerted me to a potential danger once, and has vowed to do so again if the need arises. A king needs that kind of support from those around him."

"True," Lothiriel agreed. "Well, Tarendil, if you are not otherwise occupied, perhaps you would care to have dinner with us. We were just going to choose an inn, but possibly you know of a good one?"

"I do!" he grinned. "My uncle runs it, and Papa always says it is the best public house in the city."

"Then lead on," Eomer instructed, glad that Lothiriel was game for such a venture, and had even suggested it herself.

The inn was not remarkable in appearance from the outside, nor in the interior, but there was a friendly feel to it. Some such places one had to enter cautiously and first learn the lay of the land. Tarendil's uncle spotted him, and when apprised of their intent to dine there, quickly saw them to a table set back away from the main flow of the room so they could have some privacy. The man seemed surprised and impressed with the company his nephew was keeping, but he determined to treat these guests no differently than any other. He prided himself on treating his customers well, whomever they might be.

A stew was suggested as being a good choice for the day, and all agreed to it. It did not take long for a girl to return with bowls of stew and a loaf of freshly baked bread. To Eomer's delight, mugs of ale were set down before them. Usually while in Gondor he was met with wine, but his preference was for something more hearty. True, Gondorian ale was a bit less sturdy than that from home, but it was still an improvement on wine, in his opinion.

The three fell to eating without much conversation, but as he was near to emptying his bowl, Eomer glanced at his companions as he took some bread to sop the remaining gravy.

"I do not believe you have told me anything of your family, Tarendil. Who is your father?" Eomer asked curiously.

The boy hesitated, then said, "My father is Angamor. He…he was a soldier in the War also, and marched to the Black Gates."

Noticing the reticence, Eomer was cautious in his response, in case the boy's father had not returned. "Indeed. A brave man then."

Tarendil nodded fervently. "He is! He…he lost part of his left arm, and it is hard for him to work. He's a blacksmith, see. But I help him sometimes, by holding things while he strikes the metal. He says we work well together, but still it is hard." The boy scowled down at his plate, lost in his thoughts.

Eomer and Lothiriel's eyes met across the table, and then Eomer laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I should like to meet such a fine man. Will you introduce us after our meal?"

Tarendil looked up in surprise. "You…you want to meet him?" At Eomer's nod, the boy grinned. "He would like that, I know! He talks all the time about the men of Rohan and what fierce warriors they were. He said one man even saved his life during the battle."

"Then it is decided," Eomer told him, taking the last few bites of his stew.

Lothiriel eyed the king thoughtfully. It was a generous gesture on his part, to go and meet this man, but more than that, she sensed that he truly did wish to make the acquaintance and thought it not unusual to do so. Certainly this king was like no nobleman of her prior experience. Most did not concern themselves with the lesser class overly much. Such were servants or trademen, and merely served their purpose, but otherwise were generally overlooked. Usually only in her father and brothers had she previously seen this sort of compassion. Somehow, it did not particularly surprise her, as if she had expected nothing less from Eomer. But how could she know such a thing about his character when they had only met a few hours before?

While his companions were finishing their meal, Eomer signaled one of his guards to his side and spoke quickly to him in Rohirric. The man gave a nod and moved away, but Eomer offered no explanation, so Lothiriel did not question him. A few minutes later they had paid their bill and were making their way down to the first circle.

Minas Tirith was not designed to house horses, and so most of the stables were outside the city gates, with the exception of the King's stable on the sixth circle. Consequently, the smithys were located near enough to the stables, but also within the city for whatever work in metal repair they could claim from the households.

At their destination, there seemed to be a lull in activity at present, possibly due to the noon hour, and a man sat by himself on a bench eating a modest meal with his one good hand. Tarendil raced to him, exclaiming, "Papa, Papa, the King has come to meet you!"

For a moment Angamor's eyes narrowed questioningly, but then he spotted Eomer and Lothiriel coming through the doorway, and he paused in mid-bite. Laying aside his meal, he rose, wiping his hand down his shirt to clean it somewhat, and gave an awkward bow. "My Lord! It is an honor!"

"The honor is mine," Eomer replied, "to meet a fellow warrior. And this is Lady Lothiriel, of the house of Dol Amroth."

Lothiriel inclined her head as the man bowed again. "How very nice to meet you, Angamor. We have been dining with your son and he was telling us about you. We thought you would not object if we came and made your acquaintance for ourselves."

"Er…not at all, my lady!" Angamor replied, too stunned for speech.

Eomer was walking around looking at the small shop, but Lothiriel noticed the unfinished meal. "I am sorry. We have interrupted your dinner. Please, do not let us keep you from it."

"No, no, my lady, it is no matter," he nervously hastened to assure her. "I was mostly done, and can finish what little is left later on."

"Please, call me Lothiriel. We are friends, are we not?" Now it was Lothiriel's turn to look around. "You know, I do not recall ever before being in a blacksmith shop. Always the servants see to getting repairs done so I have not had occasion to come. Would you show me what you do?"

"Of…of course, my…Lothiriel," Angamor stammered. He led her over and pointed out his tools, the fire and bellows, and explained something of the business he did here.

"Do you work more with horses or household goods?" Eomer asked, coming to join them.

"More household goods now," Angamor said, lifting the stump of his left arm, half his forearm and hand missing. "It is difficult to work with horses without two hands. Tarendil assists me some, but he can't help with horses. But I manage." He lifted his head proudly.

"Could I see you work?" Lothiriel asked, to ease the tension. She pointed to a large hammer by the fire and pointed to it. "You use that? To strike the metal. Yes?"

He nodded and hefted the hammer easily. "The metal is heated in the fire to soften it, and then I use the hammer to shape it, or to pound out flaws."

Eomer spoke over his shoulder to a guard, who stepped forward with his sword drawn. Laying it on the iron, he stepped back, and Angamor quickly took Eomer's intent. Setting aside the hammer, he raised the sword and gazed along the blade, seeking any nicks that had dulled it. "Not much needs doing here. This sword is well cared for." He moved over to a sharpening wheel, and sat down. Tugging a protective leather covering over his stump, he began the wheel spinning with the foot pedal, then set the blade carefully upon it, pressing it to the stone with his stump. Small drips of water from a can hanging over the wheel kept it lubricated and dampened the sparks. After just a few minutes, Angamor was satisfied and returned the sword to its owner.

Lothiriel pointed to the hammer again. "May I?"

Angamor was not immediately sure what she wanted, but Tarendil darted forward and, with difficulty, picked up the hammer to hand to her. "Oh my!" she said, when she took the full weight of it. "This is very heavy! How can you use this all day and not be exhausted?"

The smithy grinned at her and shrugged. "You get used to it, Miss, and build your strength over time. I do not even think about the weight, unless it has been a very long day. Then I do begin to tire." His eyes darkened, and he did not say aloud that such days were not common for him anymore.

The men watched with amusement as Lothiriel determinedly lifted the hammer. It took both hands to hold it steady, but she swung the hammer and struck the iron, causing Tarendil to laugh as she struggled to maneuver it. She made a face at the boy before carefully laying the hammer back where it had been resting. "This is far more difficult work than I realized," she observed, then asked abruptly, "Do you repair braziers?"

"Yes, I do," Angamor replied, assuming she was simply inquiring after something familiar to her in order to relate to what she was seeing around her. "Don't get a lot of them, but now and then one needs fixing. I do most any household fixtures."

"Good. I shall send two down to you. I noticed they needed work, but had not yet had time to inquire where to have them repaired. I will send a servant down today or tomorrow. With winter passing, they are not needed as much, but I want them ready for when it is chill once more."

"Thank…thank you, my…Lothiriel. I shall be happy to do the work for you." Angamor was taken aback by the unexpected announcement of work coming his way, but was not going to argue about it. Certainly he needed the coin if he was to provide for his family.

"We do not wish to keep you from your dinner, or your work," Eomer said, "but I wonder if you would have a drink with a fellow soldier before we depart. I have brought some ale to share with you, if that is acceptable."

Angamor straightened proudly. "It would be an honor, sir. I count the men of Rohan as friends."

The guard stepped forward with the jug of ale he had procured, making it evident what Eomer had said to him at the inn. Angamor quickly found horn cups for them and all the men took some, including the guards. Angamor looked uncertainly at Lothiriel, not sure if she wished to partake or not.

"I am no soldier, but I would be pleased to join you, if no one objects," she said.

Without a word, Eomer poured her a cup as well. The group stood in silence gazing at one another. The moment seemed to call for words, but no one was quite sure what precisely should be said. At length, Lothiriel raised her cup and said simply, "To friendship, and to peace." That seemed to say it all, and the company murmured "Aye", then drained their cups.

They tarried a little longer, the men finishing the ale among them while Tarendil gave Lothiriel a tour of the shop and explained what the various tools were used to do. Once they had bid farewell to Angamor, and Tarendil who remained behind to help his father, Eomer and Lothiriel began their trek back to the upper circles in comfortable silence. Lothiriel had thought to finish her shopping while they were out, but the unexpected stop had delayed them and she needed to return home to meet with ladies of a city guild that were stopping by.

"Forgive me. I fear I overtook your day and we did not attend to all your errands," Eomer apologized, as they approached the third gate. He had seen her carefully crossing off each task on her list as it was accomplished, and knew that several still remained undone.

"Hmmm? No matter," she replied, matching his strides up the hill. "I can come out again tomorrow and finish them."

"Would…you dare risk my accompanying you a second time, and possibly fouling your efforts again?" Eomer ventured hopefully.

"Of course you may come, if you wish, Eomer!" she told him, with evident pleasure. "I might almost hope you will find further interesting endeavors to distract us! This has been far too enjoyable a day for me to complain of such trivial matters as missed errands!" She was a little amazed at how much she meant her words. Somehow spending the day with Eomer had been pleasant regardless of the activity they pursued. She had found him easy to speak with, and she had felt no reluctance to reveal who she was and about what things she cared most deeply. And he had not appeared to have any reticence either, which pleased her. She did not think this was a man who was open with his thoughts and feelings to just anyone, and she was honored by his regard.

After a moment, her thoughts shifted and she asked, "Did you meet him during the War, Tarendil's father?"

Eomer sighed and shook his head. "No, but I met many men like him afterwards – those who had their lives torn asunder, along with their bodies. Left to rebuild as best they could in drastically changed circumstances. It has been a challenge helping them to be useful again, and to feel needed and wanted. But their wounds are the sacrifice they made for the rest of us to live freely, and I will not see them cast aside."

They walked in silence a little farther, before she commented, "It is so in Gondor also. I have seen men returned to Dol Amroth, and here in Minas Tirith, that suffer as Angamor does. Too many have been reduced to beggars, and that is not right. Were it not for them…" She did not finish the thought aloud, but she sensed that he took her meaning, and was in perfect agreement. After a moment, she stopped and looked fully at him. "What have you done in Rohan to aid such men? I will press my father, and King Elessar, to do more for these men here. I cannot be silent until the situation is rectified."

He smiled at her words, touched by her determination, as they began moving again. "I have already had discussions with both your father and Aragorn – Elessar, that is – and they are in complete favor of all measures to that effect. They are working to accomplish it, but if you think of any ideas, do not hesitate to pass them along. I am sure they would welcome suggestions, and you are more familiar with the possibilities here than I am. The situation is somewhat different."

"Perhaps…" she broke off, lost in thought.

"Perhaps?" Eomer prompted, and she came to halt once more as she pulled her ideas into some semblance of order so she could share them with him.

"There were many orphans made from the War, and more than a few are young lads, Tarendil's age or older. I confess I do not know enough of such things to speak intelligently about it, but…could some of the boys be apprenticed to Angamor? That would give him hands to do what he cannot, and he could teach them a skill for later in their lives. Possibly King Elessar would arrange to pay Angamor some small amount for his trouble, and he in turn could give the boys a small wage so they would have money to spend on themselves. And the same done with other men who have skills but are hampered in doing them?" She lifted her eyes to him questioningly, seeking his opinion of the proposal.

"Your plan is sound," he assured her, a surge of pride running through him on her behalf. "I will speak to Aragorn – Elessar, sorry, I keep forgetting – when I meet with him tomorrow, and mention your idea. It would provide assistance to both the men and the orphans."

They smiled quietly at one another, then turned in unison and continued walking toward home.

Eomer reluctantly parted from Lothiriel at her front gate. She seemed equally disinclined to leave him, but they both allowed sense to overpower inclination, and with a final kiss to her hand, Eomer moved on to his quarters in the Steward's house.

TBC

Rohan women:

Afrehold – "perpetually loyal" (ch 3)

Fegenferth – "happy heart" (ch 6)

Mithanmag – "hidden woman" (ch 1)

Rohan male (mentioned):

Aldfrid – "old peace"

Gondor women:

Ardagnir – "bane of royals" (MT) (ch 5)

Balardil – "lover of power" (MT) (ch 2)

Gaermil – "sea lover" (DA) (ch 4)

Pethmil – "lover of words" (MT) (ch 2)

Vaniel – "beautiful daughter" (DA) (ch 4)

Gondor men:

Angamor – "black iron" (ch 7)

Belcam – "strong hand" (ch 3)

Faramil – "sufficient affection" (ch 6)

Pethraug – "demon words" (ch 4)

Tarendil – "friend of kings" (ch 2)

Vanendil – "lover of beauty" (ch 4)


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Was debating whether to continue on the "every other day" posting schedule, but since the last chapter is finalized I think I will return to my usual once a day to finish this out. Anyone that falls behind can always catch up at their leisure!  
**

**Near Misses**

**Chapter 8**

As it turned out, their outing the following day had to be postponed. Unaware of Eomer's plans, Elessar had scheduled more meetings during the course of the day than he anticipated, and Eomer still might have begged off had not a note arrived from Lothiriel. Her father, obviously desirous of furthering their acquaintance, was inviting him to supper that evening, and she did not feel she had time to spare for a trip into town on non-essential errands.

At least knowing he would see her that night kept Eomer being too greatly disappointed, though he would have preferred being alone with her than in a formal setting. Elessar and Arwen, along with Faramir and Eowyn, had also been invited to join them, so the threesome set out together for a leisurely evening stroll to Imrahil's townhouse. The King and Queen were just turning in the gate as they arrived.

They were ushered into the library where Imrahil and his sons had gathered, but there was no sign of Lothiriel. Unconsciously, Eomer's neck muscles tensed, recalling all too clearly the last time his hostess had not been present at the outset. His trepidation was not lessened when Imrahil explained, "We wait upon Lothiriel, my friends, but I do not think it will be long. Some crisis has arisen and she is seeing to it."

At least that seemed a more reasonable explanation than prolonged primping, but Eomer found his guard was still up. He desperately did not want anything to happen that would tarnish his very good opinion of the lady. From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed someone dash past the open library door, and he had almost thought it was Lothiriel, but decided he must have been mistaken. Noble women of Gondor were not given to running down halls.

Several minutes passed, and Imrahil was just suggesting that Amrothos go to check on the situation, when a maid appeared and curtsied to them. "My apologies, my lords and ladies," she said nervously. "Lady Lothiriel suggests that you all go in to supper and she will join you as soon as she can. She does not wish to delay the rest of you from your meal."

Several eyebrows rose, wondering what could be the problem, but the maid had turned and hurried out before she could be questioned. "Well," Imrahil said, rather nonplussed, "shall we go in. I am sure Lothiriel will explain in due course. I am most intrigued to know what is happening under my very roof!"

There were chuckles as they followed the Prince leading the way to the dining room, and they settled around the table as they chose since no places had been assigned. The informal arrangement suited Eomer. It was far more enjoyable than having every detail designed in advance.

Despite the conversation flowing around him, Eomer found that all his senses were focused on the doorway, eager for Lothiriel's arrival. It was all he could do to make himself stay seated and not go in search of her.

After nearly a quarter of an hour, finally she came, but not the epitome of beauty one might expect. In his experience, one did not usually see women of the court until their appearance was pristine. Lothiriel's hair had likely been neatly styled when she prepared for the evening, but now a few strands had come loose and were shoved behind an obliging ear to keep them out of her face. There was a small smudge of dirt on one cheek, though both were pink from exertion, and her right forearm had small scratches all along it. Her dress also had smudges of dirt, but she was surprisingly oblivious to her disheveled appearance. Any other woman probably would have retreated to her room for repairs before joining them, but Lothiriel obviously had come straight from whatever had occupied her attention. Regardless of the sight she presented, Lothiriel smiled apologetically at the gathering, waving the men back to their seats when they would have stood, as she settled into the empty chair beside her father.

"Pray tell, dearest," Imrahil directed, reaching to wipe the dirt from her face with his napkin, "what _have_ you been doing?"

There were chuckles from her brothers and cousin, and even Eomer grinned as he drank in the sight of her. No, there was not a bit of resemblance to Lady Vaniel! He had seen Lothiriel impeccably dressed before and knew she was not slovenly, but he appreciated her easiness in allowing family and friends to see her in this way. Across from him, Aragorn was also amused by it, but not at all appalled; he, too, enjoyed the company of a woman with such naturalness about her. And Eomer could not truly say he found her unappealing in this state. Perhaps another woman might not have carried it off, yet somehow she made it acceptable to those around her with her own deportment.

Lothiriel sighed and smiled ruefully as she began dishing her plate. "The kitchen cat had kittens not long ago, and one of them crawled up into a small space behind the oven. We feared the poor thing might succumb to the heat if we did not get it out." She held up her scratched arm to add, "But apparently it did not realize the danger and _balked_ at our recovery attempts!" Setting down the serving dish in her hand, she smiled around at each of them, letting her gaze linger slightly on Eomer, then added, "But I do very much apologize for delaying your meal. Naturally, it happened just as everyone arrived."

"Thiri, why did you not let the servants deal with it? Why must you always become involved?" Erchirion inquired with mild exasperation.

So this was not the first time she had done something of this nature, Eomer realized. Like his sister, she not only ran the household but did not think it amiss to take a direct hand in its running.

"They could not reach it. As I am the tallest, my arms are the longest," she answer mildly, but firmly. She would apologize for the delay in her arrival, but not for the reason behind it.

"Is the kitten well?" Eomer asked, drawing her eyes back in his direction. He had discovered that he very much enjoyed having her look at him, though he could not say precisely why that was. Gray eyes were common to her family, he had noticed, but in their few times together it almost seemed as if hers changed to suit her mood or surroundings. And when they gazed at him, they seemed to flare with warmth. Was that intentional or did she not even realize it? He hoped it was conscious.

"Yes, quite unharmed, and unconcerned with the uproar that it caused. And mama cat is very pleased to have him back in the basket." Her eyes glittered with laughter in the candlelight before she dropped her gaze to her plate, though Eomer did not immediately look away.

His attention was not lost on his sister, whose eyes flicked between the two of them, before commenting, "This sounds like something Eomer did when he was younger. One of the dogs got its head stuck in a jug, and he was trying to free it. When it seemed the only way to resolve the problem was to break the jug, Eomer did, but the neck of it was still around the dog's head, and it so terrified the animal that it took off running – right through the middle of the Great Hall during a dinner meeting of Uncle's advisers! It caused quite a commotion, not lessened when Eomer pelted through hard on the dog's heels, trying to catch it and finish the rescue. As I recall, Uncle gave him a rather stern lecture about the matter, after he could contain his laughter long enough to do so!"

Eomer colored slightly as everyone laughed, but Lothiriel told him, "Alas, Eomer, we animal lovers are a misunderstood lot, are we not?"

Her approbation was worth any discomfiture and he readily nodded. "We are," he agreed earnestly. "But let us stick to our principles in such things. We know we have right on our side." For a moment, their gazes locked and they became unaware of anyone else in the room.

"Wonderful! Just what we need is you encouraging Lothiriel in her hare-brained schemes, Eomer!" Amrothos accused teasingly, disrupting the moment that had passed between them. "How are we ever to get her to behave like a lady at all times and in all places?"

"I am very sure your sister knows how to behave, and recognizes when it is necessary to do so. But I would not have her be afraid to do such things that she cares deeply about when she is only in the company of friends," Eomer replied, his eyes still fixed on Lothiriel. He meant it, too. If anything, her actions made him feel more welcome in Imrahil's home than any words ever could. He was being treated as family, and with any luck, one day soon that just might be the case.

Lothiriel's cheeks pinked slightly, but only after a few moments did she look down at her plate, both flustered and pleased by his remarks. How was it possible that this moment with him felt so intimate when they were in the company of so many other people, including her family? Not that she minded, actually. They all wanted her and Eomer to get along, so surely they were pleased to see it was so, but more than that, she was eager to know more of this man. Nevermind what she had been told by family, friends or gossips. Nevermind that everyone thought them a good match and their union would form a great alliance between Gondor and Rohan. No, it was the man himself that drew her notice.

She had thought she might like King Eomer, as her family spoke so well of him, particularly her father who was not given to overt flattery without appropriate merit. However, she had not expected to feel so at one with him, almost in the very moment of their first meeting. She was trying to be cautious, almost afraid that at any moment she would see a distasteful side to him that would make it impossible for her to accept any suit he might offer. But despite her caution, she could feel nothing but affinity for him. She wanted to be with him, she wanted to talk to him and look at him and spend the rest of her days coming to know him completely. While previously she had thought it might be very interesting to see Rohan, and hoped to accompany her father for a visit there eventually, now she was so eager to see and know of Eomer's homeland that she was ready to suggest the trip to her father, despite the implications that might be read into such a request.

Lothiriel had not desired to meet Eomer expecting to want a union with him, though she had not been unwilling and knew it was a possibility. Now she began to see that she would be devastated if it did not happen, but she knew him so little. Were his feelings along the same lines as hers, or was she misreading his response to her? And how was it possible to have such powerful feelings for someone so quickly? A voice of reason kept wanting to whisper words of warning, to take it slowly, but her heart seemed determined to thunder off into carefree passion. She had always thought that she had good instincts. Now she must hope they would stand her in good stead.

Aragorn, perhaps sensing the conversation was becoming uncomfortable, turned it off to more mundane paths, but he was also pleased at what seemed to be passing between the couple. If his observation was to be believed, then family and friends had been right to encourage their acquaintance. Now it must be left to them to decide where to take it.

When the group adjourned to the parlor after supper, for further conversation, Eomer trailed the others. For just an instant, something had made him think of Fegenferth. He realized that he had given no thought to her since the time he left Meduseld, nearly a fortnight past. Now, try as he might, he could not work up enthusiasm for considering her further. Had she ever truly held his affection, or was he only settling for someone, as he had hoped never to do? He was rather inclined to think the latter. With Lothiriel before him, he could not believe there was any other choice he could make. She was…right. It was that simple. Everything made sense to him when he was with her. Everything was possible, and doubts did not plague him. While he was here awaiting the birth of Eowyn's child, he must take full advantage of their time together. He would not return home without reaching some sort of agreement with her. Perhaps he should move more slowly, and maybe her feelings were less certain than his, but he would give her whatever time she needed. He could not believe this was not meant to be. Others had claimed it was so, but he _knew_.

If Eomer and Lothiriel thought that their newfound awareness of each other would be accommodated, they failed to take into account the reason they had been summoned. When Eowyn returned home that night, she confessed to her husband that the baby felt more active than usual. By early morning, her contractions were unmistakeable. All else was forgotten in the uproar attending the birth of a child. Lothiriel was sent for at first light, and she arrived to join the midwife in the long vigil. Eomer gathered with Faramir and Aragorn in the Steward's study. They managed some work, but mostly Aragorn tried to calm the worries of his two friends as they waited, since he was the only one with any experience of this nature. In his long years, and especially after becoming a healer under Lord Elrond's tutelage, he had seen several babies born.

It was well into the evening before Eowyn was finally delivered of a fine, healthy boy child. As Lothiriel gazed upon the tiny, red, wrinkled creature in her hands, gently wiping him clean with a soft cloth, she wondered what it would be like to hold a child of her own. And on the heels of that thought was wondering what a child of Eomer's would look like. Her brow wrinkled at how quickly her mind had turned to him, whom she had only known a couple of days, rather than to Faramil who had spent so much more time with her in recent months. But Faramil could not hold her interest any longer, if indeed he ever had. He was pleasant, and she did like him very much, but never more than as a friend – she was sure of that now. She had only been deceiving herself that it would ever amount to more.

As the child fussed and mewled in her arms, she smiled. Yes, Eomer would have beautiful, strong children, just like this one! And with any luck, she would hold them – dare she hope, _bear them_? She blushed slightly at even having such a thought, but she could not repress it. In a mere three days' time he had won her heart, and there was no denying it. She could only hope he viewed things similarly.

With Eowyn and the baby clean, the awestruck father was admitted to meet his son. Eomer trailed at his heels, looking nearly as proud as did Faramir, as though he had some hand in this. He watched his sister and her family in this intimate moment and he envied her. Without conscious thought, his gaze went to where Lothiriel stood out of the way but ready to assist if needed. She looked exhausted from attending Eowyn's long travail, but she was lovely all the same. And she would be all the lovelier cooing over a child of her own…of their own. All in good time…

xxxxx

Over the next couple of days, though Eomer passed Lothiriel many times, there was little chance to speak with her for very long. She was busily watching over the new mother, and seeing to her household in Eowyn's stead. Considering the circumstances, he understood, even if he did not like it very much. Things would settle down eventually and then they could focus on each other once more.

xx

"My lady, may we rest a moment?" one of the young men panted, and Lothiriel suddenly noticed their flushed faces.

"Oh! I am sorry I did not see you were winded. Forgive me! Wait here and catch your breath. I believe the smithy was nearby, but I will walk ahead to make sure before you carry those any farther," she told them.

The two nodded their understanding and gratitude as she continued on down the hill, her eyes carefully looking around. As she had thought, the blacksmith shop was not far, and she turned back to her companions once she had located it. She had passed a rider going up the hill, and now the horse he was on swung in on the two young men, where they stood to the side of the road. One gave a shout and leapt back, but the other had to push the horse away from trampling him.

Instantly the rider was loudly berating the two, jumping down from his horse and advancing upon them threateningly. Lothiriel's temper flared at the outrage of it. He had caught the arm of one man as he yelled, but Lothiriel charged up to them and insinuated herself between them. "Unhand him, sir!" she demanded, unmindful of any danger to herself. "He, they, did nothing wrong! You were careless with your horse and nearly ran them over!"

"You keep out of this if you know what is good for you!" he bellowed back at her. "I do not see that it is any of your concern!"

"They are my servants and it IS my concern how they are being treated!" Lothiriel retorted angrily. "I saw the whole thing and they are blameless."

"I am warning you," the rider snarled, but he was cut off by a question from a newcomer.

"Or what?"

The four of them turned, but likely it was only Lothiriel who recognized Eothain, standing there looking especially dangerous with his hand on the hilt of the sword at his hip.

"Who are you?" sneered the rider, though a little less belligerently. A woman and two servants was one thing, but this man would not be easily bullied.

"A friend to these good folk whom you are accosting. And I, too, saw what happened. You are to blame, not them." It was said with certainty that allowed for no argument, but the rider hesitated, apparently considering a continuation of the dispute.

"I suggest you leave now, while you are still able," Eothain warned. "I do not think King Elessar will be pleased to learn of your assault on his dear friend, any more than will be her cousin, the Steward of Gondor."

The rider glanced quickly at Lothiriel, wondering if she was in fact no mere noblewoman and that perhaps his position was tenuous. Still, he did not like being challenged, and who was to say the man wasn't simply bluffing? "You do not have the ear of the King of Gondor!" he sneered belligerently.

"Do I not?" Eothain asked mildly, noting the wariness in the man's eyes despite his arguing. "I assure you, I have the ear of the King and Queen of Gondor, the Steward of Gondor, the Prince and Princess of Ithilien, the Prince of Dol Amroth and his sons, the King of Rohan, _and_ of myself. However, it is that last _one_ that should concern you most, because he is the one most likely to cause you great bodily harm and pain." With each word, Eothain had advanced nearer, and now towered over the other man. "None of the people I have mentioned take kindly to someone treating a woman, or servants, in the manner you have just done."

It was perfectly clear to the other man that Eothain meant every word. His jaw tightened in anger at this public humiliation, for several people had stopped to gawk. With evident irritation, he stepped up into the saddle, riding on without saying anything more or bothering to offer an apology.

"Pity I did not get his name," Eothain remarked, watching the man disappear up the hill. "I should like to have passed it on to your relatives, in case they cared to pursue this matter further."

Lothiriel grinned, her annoyance easing. "Sadly for him, I recognized him, so he did not slip away unknown. More is the pity for him! But, I do thank you for your timely assistance. How is it that you were close enough to come to my aid?"

"Eomer King and I were at the blacksmith shop, visiting with Tarendil and Angamor." He pointed off down the hill. "I was waiting outside and saw you come near, then turn away, and I followed to give my regards when I witnessed the quarrel."

"Ah! Well, as it happens, the blacksmith shop is where we are headed." She gestured to the two young men, then asked them, "Are you ready to continue on?"

Both nodded, then added, including both Lothiriel and Eothain, "Thank you for your help." It was evident they were unused to having others come to their rescue in such a dispute. Picking up the heavy braziers, they continued down the hill to their destination.

When they entered the smithy, Lothiriel moved ahead calling out, "My lord Eomer! I did not expect to find you here as well. Imagine my surprise to find Eothain outside and you within."

As she did not mention the earlier unpleasantness, Eothain kept silent as well. Later, possibly Eomer would question him, but for now he would let the lady reveal only what she wished.

Angamor greeted her warmly also, somewhat surprised that she had kept her word and brought him work. He showed her men where to set the braziers, and then Lothiriel paid them and sent them on their way.

"I thought they were your servants," Eothain commented, thinking it unusual for her to have defended them so strenuously if they were not.

"Only for the task at hand. Most of our household staff are women or older men, and the braziers are too heavy for them to carry this distance. There are usually men for hire available when we require extra help," she explained. "Such an arrangement benefits those who need work, if only temporary, and it provides someone when we are shorthanded."

They visited awhile longer with Tarendil and Angamor, and then Eomer and Eothain offered to accompany her home. The day had been overcast all morning, but they had just passed through the gate into the fifth circle when the skies opened up. Here it was all homes, so no welcoming shops were to be had as shelter. Laughing, Lothiriel gave a small shriek and took off running, the two men following uncertainly. After several minutes, she located an obliging doorway fronted by a covered alcove and dove into it. Eomer hesitated only briefly before joining her, while Eothain hunched next to the wall.

Brushing the wet hair back from her face, Lothiriel laughed up at the king. "It is not much but it will keep the worst of the rain off us! But, where is Eothain?"

"He is outside, nearby. I do not believe he thought there was room for another person." It wasn't entirely the truth; Eomer suspected his friend thought it inappropriate for him to join them, and that a noblewoman would not appreciate being crowded into such close quarters with two men.

"Nonsense!" Lothiriel exclaimed, her brow wrinkled in consternation. "We will squash together and make room. Why should we not share?" She leaned out to look around until she spotted Eomer's guard. "Eothain, come inside. You will be soaked through!"

He hesitated, but behind her Eomer gave a slight jerk of his head indicating the man should comply. Reluctantly, he did as bid, saying, "Thank you, my lady, but I fear I will overpower the room that is available to you."

He wasn't entirely wrong; it made for very tight quarters, and the space had obviously never been intended to hold so many people for any length of time. Lothiriel laughed again, at the absurdity of their situation. In truth, Eomer and Eothain both were still getting wet as part of them was not covered, since both of them were reluctant to press her too closely. Finally, she announced, "Gentlemen, I beg you will step aside."

Puzzled, they did so, and Lothiriel strode out into the falling rain again, throwing back her head to let the drops splash on her face. Then laughing at their expressions, she said, "We are wet already. We might as well enjoy it! However, that does not mean we ought not seek warm, dry clothes as soon as possible." Lifting her skirts she challenged, "I will race you home!" And with that she took off running again, pelting for the sixth circle gate.

Eomer and Eothain exchanged startled looks, but then Eothain chuckled and gave a mock bow. "After you, my lord!" With that, the two men bolted after Lothiriel's retreating figure.

She had a headstart, but they had almost caught her as she arrived at the entrance gate. She was more used to climbing this hill on foot than were the two of them, but they had sufficient strength and stamina to compensate for that deficiency. Imrahil's home was not too far beyond the gate, but both of them reached her and then ran past, before she got to the Prince's courtyard, Eomer only slightly edging Eothain to get there first. He was waiting with his arms folded triumphantly, when she came to a stop beside him, clutching the fence for support and her side to ease the stitch that had formed there.

"It would seem that I won," he smirked down at her, but she shook her head.

"Nay, my lord. _I_ am home, but you do not live here. You have a way to go yet!" she chortled breathlessly.

Eomer blinked in surprise at this declaration, but could not deny the truth of it. She seemed to find his expression even more amusing for she broke into gales of laughter before telling them, "However, since we are here, I shall be a good hostess and invite you in to dry yourselves by a warm fire. And perhaps my father or brothers can find clothes that will fit you until you get some of your own!"

Laughing, the three of them tumbled inside, dripping a puddle on the entryway floor. The Prince's doorman appeared and took in the situation, repressing a slight smile as he directed servants to go for towels to be brought. Eomer and Eothain were shown to a guest room, where Erchirion joined them with dry clothing he thought might fit them. It was a mishmash of attire, but it served its purpose, and when they reappeared downstairs, Lothiriel was already there in fresh clothing also.

Imrahil had put in appearance and invited the men to join him for conversation as his daughter departed to other responsibilities, and Eomer watched her walk away with a smile on his face. A most unusual woman, indeed, and he liked her ever more with each encounter.

The rain continued the rest of the afternoon, and Imrahil invited them to stay to supper, but Eomer already had plans to dine with the King and so they reluctantly left for the King's House. Not until they were changing to clothing of their own in Eomer's room did he inquire how Eothain had met up with Lothiriel in the street earlier that day. He raised an eyebrow at the explanation given.

"She faced him down?"

"Yes. Brave, but not altogether wise in that situation. I am not sure how much help her companions would have been if he had chosen to assault her," Eothain mused.

After a moment of gazing at the ground, Eomer looked up and said thoughtfully, "Still..."

When he did not continue the thought, Eothain prompted, "Still?"

Eomer smiled at his friend, explaining, "The more I see and learn of Imrahil's daughter, the more I am persuaded there is much yet to be discovered. I would not be entirely surprised to find she could have dealt with the challenge without assistance, though I am glad you were there to ensure she did not need to try. Keep an eye out. If you see this man looking to cause trouble, let me know. He will find more trouble than he could possibly imagine."

Eothain nodded his understanding as the two men exited the room and went their separate ways. At supper that evening, the conversation was still much concerned with Faramir and Eowyn's son. Certainly Eomer did not mind discussing such a happy event, as it boded well for the Mark as well as Gondor and Ithilien. But increasingly, he realized his thoughts were most drawn to Lothiriel. For someone he knew so little, he had missed her company the past few days, and even that small amount of time they had shared today was not enough. He wanted time alone with her, just the two of them, to truly become acquainted. He had gleaned tidbits from their encounters, all of which left favorable impressions, but also left him yearning to know more. And he particularly wanted to get a better idea of whether she was having feelings similar to his own.

Despite today's rain, as they neared March, the weather was definitely becoming warmer and more appealing for outdoor activity. Perhaps the lady would be willing to accompany him on a ride out on the Pelennor. It had been awhile since he had stopped at Snowmane's grave and paid his respects. He expected Lothiriel's calming presence would ease the pangs he always felt at such a time. So many memories were raised by the one simple mound, but the valiant steed deserved honoring just as did the master he had carried.

As it happened, however, a note came from Faramir that evening, inviting Eomer to join a small party riding out to Ithilien on the day after tomorrow, to see his and Eowyn's home there. Eowyn knew that it would be some time before she could travel with them, but she desired her brother to see it and had asked Faramir to guide a group. It was mentioned in passing that Lothiriel and her brothers also had not seen the home as yet, and thus had been invited on the day trip as well.

Realizing that he likely could not expect to get Lothiriel entirely alone, this might be the best opportunity to spend some informal time with her to further their knowledge of each other. As everyone else knew both of them well, possibly they would offer insights also that would aid the process. It never occurred to him that Lothiriel might decline the invitation, and so he fully expected the news that came saying that she and both brothers would join them. With the long ride the next day, he thought it unlikely she would want to venture a ride today and so rode to Snowmane's grave alone. He might have considered making the visit on their way to Osgiliath to cross the bridge, but preferred not to feel rushed by having companions awaiting him.

Eothain rode down with him, and after their visit, they ventured toward the Harlond before returning to the city. They had ridden mostly in silence, but eventually Eothain remarked, "Do I rightly get the impression that you favor Lady Lothiriel?"

He glanced at his friend from the corner of his eye, surprised at the sudden conversation. "Yes, I believe I do," he admitted. "Have you any objections?" He had thought Eothain viewed Lothiriel favorably, but it would be interesting to hear what he had to say.

Eothain was silent so long, Eomer began to fidget, finally looking directly at the man with a raised eyebrow. Apparently that was what Eothain had been awaiting for as he flashed a cheeky grin. "Objections? No, none at all. It is not difficult to like the lady, but more than that I think she is very worthy of you, and of my _king_, if that is your intent." The last was said quietly, but firmly, its meaning plain.

His tension ebbed, and he nodded. "We shall see," was his only response. Having taken so long to even meet her, he was loath to plunge forward too quickly and risk ruining everything now.

Eothain watched him a moment more, then faced front again, falling back into silence as they entered the main gate. Eomer was glad to know he had his friend's support, not that he had much doubted it. Further, he was confident that Lothiriel's manner would endear her to the Rohirrim as well if he were to make her his bride. They might be wary of a Gondorian bride, but he was sure she would win them to her.

TBC

Rohan women:

Afrehold – "perpetually loyal" (ch 3)

Fegenferth – "happy heart" (ch 6)

Mithanmag – "hidden woman" (ch 1)

Rohan male (mentioned):

Aldfrid – "old peace"

Gondor women:

Ardagnir – "bane of royals" (MT) (ch 5)

Balardil – "lover of power" (MT) (ch 2)

Gaermil – "sea lover" (DA) (ch 4)

Pethmil – "lover of words" (MT) (ch 2)

Vaniel – "beautiful daughter" (DA) (ch 4)

Gondor men:

Angamor – "black iron" (ch 7)

Belcam – "strong hand" (ch 3)

Faramil – "sufficient affection" (ch 6)

Pethraug – "demon words" (ch 4)

Tarendil – "friend of kings" (ch 2)

Vanendil – "lover of beauty" (ch 4)


	9. Chapter 9

**Near Misses**

**Chapter 9**

The morning of their jaunt to Emyn Arnen dawned bright and sunny, though the air was still cool. A light fog rimmed the Anduin and spread inland over some of the Pelennor, as they prepared their horses and then made their way down through the quiet city streets. Whether due to the early hour or the pristine morning, conversation was limited initially by unspoken agreement, and only the jingle of harness and creak of leather tainted the air. As the sun rose higher, the fog began to burn off and with it the quiet of the companions.

The road to Osgiliath was a main thoroughfare, so they could ride three across. Faramir was flanked by Erchirion and his guard, while Amrothos and Eomer rode behind them alongside Lothiriel. As Faramir had brought an escort of guards, Eomer only included Eothain in the party, and he rode toward the back, talking amicably with men he knew from the war.

Whether by design or accident, Amrothos had managed to situate himself between Eomer and Lothiriel, and so Eomer felt limited in what conversation he might pursue. Even so, it was pleasant company, and with careful questions he could elicit tidbits about Lothiriel, her life and likes. Amrothos had a penchant for telling rather embarrassing stories about his sister, causing her to blush madly and chastize him vehemently.

After a few of these, Eomer thought it incumbent upon him to come to the lady's rescue. Leaning forward slightly to meet her gaze in front of her brother, he asked, "Amrothos has had his fun, but I know him too well to think there are no similar stories to be told of him. Shall you share them with me?"

A wicked grin spread over her face as Amrothos suddenly looked slightly nervous. Dispensing such teasing was far more agreeable than suffering it in turn. "Now, now – you cannot give credence to my sister's lies about me, Eomer. She exaggerates, I assure you!"

If he thought to deflect embarrassment, he was mistaken. Eomer raised an unconvinced eyebrow. "Indeed? In my brief time of knowing her she has seemed perfectly honest and forthright, while I would be more disbelieving of your innocence than your guilt!"

Amrothos attempted his best affronted expression, but it only caused his companions to laugh as Lothiriel announced, "Perhaps I should tell you of the time that he sank Father's favorite sloop, Eomer. Dear, demure and innocent Amrothos was playing corsair and managed to set it afire. There was little left but floating ash as the hulk sank out of sight, and Amrothos was not allowed outside the palace for a week! He was made to read every single book of Sindarin poetry in Father's library, and report on it. It was the most excruciating punishment Father could dream up for an active boy. I believe it worked, though, as Amrothos never set fire to any more boats!"

Amrothos glared at her. "It was an accident!" he hissed. "I did not notice the candle fall among the rags when I left the boat. Normally I am very careful."

He tried to look haughty, but Lothiriel only grinned more broadly, "Well, you are now!"

Eomer laughed heartily, thinking it had been a very long time since he had been so amused. This visit for the birth of Eowyn's child had been of much greater benefit to him than he could have dreamed. It was good to share the company of close friends and not have to take care with every word he spoke.

The time passed quickly in reaching Osgiliath with such easy conversation to be had. Occasionally, someone would drop back from the front group or move forward from their pairing so that their discussions were varied and interesting. Eomer had not crossed the Anduin since the Army of the West had returned victorious from defeating Sauron. Even more reinforcement and improvement had been taking place and the bridge was far more established now. Using a pulley system, they had fixed a portion of the bridge that could be raised when needed for ships to pass, then lowered back for foot traffic with Ithilien.

When they had passed this way before, it was to ride along the road to the Crossroads and then into Mordor. This time, not long after they returned to land from the bridge, they turned aside, following a lesser trail south to the Emyn Arnen hills. This trail was not so broad and they had to fall into a single line, only occasionally able to ride two abreast.

There had not been many trees on the Pelennor or surrounding Osgiliath, as most had been decimated during the War. But in Ithilien they grew thick and the trail quickly led them under a freshly greening canopy. Spring was eagerly trying to make its presence known here, and most of the flowering bushes had many buds ready to burst open as the days continued to warm. It had been awhile since Eomer had enjoyed the sound of birds and forest animals, though admittedly their large party both masked the sound and caused the denizens of the wood to quiet during their passage. After a short way, the trail led them to a shallow crossing of what Faramir named as the Morgulduin waterway, and then their route began to rise into the hills.

From the times when the sun was not hidden by the overhanging trees, Eomer could tell that they were angling back toward the west as they pressed south. When at last they crested a large hill, they found the Anduin crawling steadily past, a gleaming ribbon of silver in the sun. They took a break to rest the horses from the climb and to enjoy the view for a time, but then continued on. It was only another couple of leagues until they reached Faramir's home.

He had explained, in snatches, that his family had long owned property in this land, but with the rise of Mordor, it had become increasingly unsafe to dwell there. The buildings stood empty for months, or even years in some cases, and so were in great disrepair once the Gondorians returned. Faramir had decided that most of the former residence of his family was not what he wished for his bride, so renovations and rebuilding had been extensive. Only this past autumn had they been close to finished, and Eowyn managed a ride to see it once before she could not make the journey comfortably.

With the better spring weather, work had continued apace and Faramir expected to be able to move in the furnishings during the next month or so.

Eomer's first interest, even more than the house, was the stables, and while most everyone else headed there upon dismounting, he led Firefoot to the outerlying building instead. Eothain came with him, equally curious, and the two men examined it approvingly. The stalls had been built more to the Rohirric style, large and airy. Both had considered the stables at Minas Tirith rather cramped space for their horses, but had acknowledged that possibly the limited space available contributed to the need for something less expansive.

"So this is where you disappeared," Erchirion called from the doorway. "I might have known."

Eomer chuckled and gave a shrug. "You were a fool not to expect it." He turned to pull Firefoot's saddle and bridle and loose him into one of the stalls, fastening the gate behind him. "Most any building with a roof that does not leak will suffice as a home, but the Eorlingas are far more choosy about the accommodations for their horses!"

"So I see!" Erchirion laughed, following Eomer's example with his own horse, as did Eothain.

Together the three men exited to continue on to the house, but paused on the broad lawn. Set on the highest point of land, there was a superb vista of the Anduin, and even Minas Tirith could be seen gleaming on the other shore. "Impressive," Eothain murmured. "Eowyn will appreciate this view, I am sure."

"Aye, she will," Eomer acknowledged. "She suffers the cold stone of Mundburg, but it is not her first choice. Only her love of Faramir could entice her to live in such a place."

"From what Faramir was saying on the ride here, they will make this their main home. As they are Prince and Princess of Ithilien, they cannot spend all their time in the White City. Faramir will, of course, have to go there often to conduct business of the Steward, but Eowyn may remain here as much as she chooses," Erchirion advised them.

Eomer chuckled. "You do not know my sister very well, obviously! She will not readily be parted from the man she loves for long periods of time. If he is to be gone more than a week, I think she will likely accompany him whenever possible. Still, now that there is a child, she may not wish to travel so much, especially as more children follow."

"They are fortunate," Erchirion replied, earning a curious look from Eomer. Noticing it, he explained, "Not all of Gondor's nobility weds for love, my friend. My parents did, and I always hoped to emulate that, but feared it never happening. It is good to be reminded that it is possible, and now that I have met…" He stopped suddenly, flushing red at the admission he had nearly made. "Well, there is someone who might be what I am seeking. That is all I will say for now."

The other two grinned at him, but refrained from teasing, and they turned to enter the open front door of the house. The rest of their party were gathered in what would become the dining room, around a large work table that had been cleared so as to lay out their midday meal. They had forgone stopping to eat along the way in order to reach their destination quickly, but now all were ready for food.

There were a few crates and barrels around, but not enough for everyone, so most got food and then settled on the floor to eat. They were hungry enough that conversation lapsed until they were finished, but once all had eaten their fill, they were ready for the tour of the house.

Faramir was in his element telling them of all that had been done and that was still to come. He had put great effort into making the house a part of the landscape, so that it almost blended into its surroundings. There was more wood than stone used to give a warmer feel to the place, and the rooms were large with many windows to let in the sunshine and afford ample views of the countryside.

As expected, the rooms on the ground floor were the functional ones for dining, greeting guests and working. The upper floor was for the family and guests who stayed overnight. When they finished seeing the house, they were led out to the back where already fruit trees had been planted to rim the garden area that was as yet untouched. Eomer and Imrahil's sons wandered off, exploring the area, and leaving Lothiriel with Faramir.

"This will make a splendid garden," Lothiriel acknowledged. "I know Eowyn is eager to have a large herb garden for medicinal purposes, in addition to vegetables and flowers. When she is ready, I will come and help her plant it, if she wishes."

"That is most generous of you," Faramir replied, smiling. "If you are not too busy in your own right."

"Why should I be too busy?" she asked. "I will make time for it."

As she stooped to examine the quality of the soil, she did not notice Faramir flick a glance in Eomer's direction. None had missed the clear attraction between the pair, and rejoiced in it. It was not at all certain that Lothiriel would not soon be a bride and living far away in the northern lands. Noncommittally, he merely answered, "Your aid is much in demand from many, but I do not doubt the sincerity of your offer. I am sure Eowyn will be pleased to hear of it."

She gave him a curious look at the cryptic response, but let it pass as she strolled the perimeter of the garden. Noticing that Faramir was coming to join them, thus leaving Lothiriel alone, Eomer went to accompany her. He silently fell in at her side for several strides before inquiring, "What think you of their home?"

"It is magnificent; I could be quite envious of Eowyn. I cannot doubt that she will be very happy here with Faramir, raising their children in peace. I have offered to help put in the garden."

Eomer nodded. "You are good at gardening, then?"

"I enjoy it, though I do not know that I have any particular skill beyond the ordinary. But I do like seeing things green and growing, both for their beauty and their use when harvested," Lothiriel admitted. "At Dol Amroth, I oversee the palace garden, and find it makes a peaceful refuge."

"It is indeed peaceful there. I spent some time enjoying it when I visited last year. I…could wish for you to come to Edoras," Eomer remarked slowly. "My grandmother, Morwen, put in a large garden behind Meduseld, but after she left the Mark and Queen Elfhild passed on, it fell into decline. I played there as a child, before it was so far gone, but now it is overtaken with weeds and not at all pleasing. I would hope to one day see it restored."

He wasn't sure why he had made such a broad hint at the hoped for shared future between them, but perhaps it might encourage some indication from her as to whether she also was inclined in that direction. As it turned out, though, her brothers and cousin rejoined them just then, curtailing any response she might have made. It left Eomer greatly frustrated. If they were so eager for a union between him and Lothiriel, why were they so quick to interrupt all the time?

It would be a long journey back to the White City, taking the entire afternoon, so Faramir suggested they set out now and all agreed. The horses were quickly saddled and their belongings collected, but most paused to take one last look at Minas Tirith in the distance. Down through the trees, Eomer could just make out the Harlond across the river, and he asked curiously, "If you are to make this your home, would it not make sense to have a ferry cross the river at the Harlond and ride up from the river? I would think that a shorter way than traveling through Osgiliath." He pointed down toward the eastern shore at a likely spot.

Faramir nodded. "Yes, I had thought of that also. Now that I will need to be both places, and move quickly between them, I am hoping to do just that. I can situate stables at the ferry crossing on this side to keep a couple of horses on hand, and we can improve the trail that leads into the hills from the river so as to make it more readily passable. I would expect it to considerably shorten the travel time."

"Would not a ferry interfere with boats on the river?" Eothain asked. "I know some travel farther north to reach Cair Andros. And the current is strong, so it would be difficult at best, I would think."

"You are correct," Erchirion acknowledged. "But likely the ferry would be situated north of the main port, where it would not be in the way of most shipping. As to the strong current, a tow chain could be stretched across for easier passage, and then be allowed to sink low enough to not snag on the boats passing by. There are such ferries to the south on the way to Dol Amroth, also. Most notably at the large port of Pelargir."

After a moment, while everyone considered the view in light of this news, no one spoke, but then Faramir raised his hand and signaled his guard on as he led the party back the way they had come. As on the outbound journey, they tended to align in pairs or threes for conversation once the road permitted.

Lothiriel had allowed her horse to drop toward the rear of their group, and Eomer gently checked Firefoot so that he gradually fell in beside her. He had noticed her fidgeting earlier, but it was more pronounced now, and he softly inquired, "Lothiriel, are you unwell?"

She looked at him, startled by the question, and then her cheeks pinked and she glanced away. After a moment, she replied, "Not unwell, no. I am...uncomfortable." Biting her lip, she looked guiltily at him and added, "It is rather an embarrassing situation to mention to a horselord."

At his puzzled expression, she elaborated with a sigh, "I am...sore. Though I do ride, it is not so often nor so long as we have done today, and I fear I was overly ambitious in joining this outing. I shall find it difficult to move for the next several days." She shrugged as if in apology as his face flooded with understanding.

"I am sorry," he said sincerely. "Unfortunately, there is little I may do beyond offer sympathy. I know of no cure save the passage of time."

She chuckled softly. "True. And, as you say, unfortunate. Still, I am glad I came and got to see their home, and it has been a most pleasant journey with the very best company. I cannot regret participating, despite the outcome."

"I am glad," he answered with a smile. "I should not have found it nearly so enjoyable had you chosen not to join us."

Her cheeks pinked again, but there was no denying the pleasure in her eyes at his remark. If anyone was aware of them separating themselves from the rest of the group, no one was making any effort to correct the situation. Not surprising, Eomer supposed, given how ardently they had been encouraging the match. At least they finally seemed to realize the couple needed to have some private conversation if they were to make any progress. Even so, this was hardly a setting for getting well acquainted with a lady. Likely he had learned more of her views on life and politics, and even of him, through their few times together previously than he was apt to do in this particular moment.

Despite that, it was pleasing to ride alongside her, talking quietly of whatever came to mind to either of them. Somehow, with her, he felt no need to make idle conversation. They both knew it was a fine day. They both knew where the other was from and had even heard stories of the other's life. What did she think of the situation in Gondor and Rohan? He already knew she approved of the king and queen by seeing them together. He already had learned of her concern over the men with shattered lives, trying to cope by begging for a living since their means of working was damaged or removed – as well as her willingness to work at finding solutions to that problem. He already knew that she liked children, treated servants with respect, and was not filled with her own importance. Perhaps he did not know her favorite color and what foods she preferred to eat, but that would come, all in good time. He had a lifetime to discover such details.

They had been silent for awhile before he observed, "Though you may not ride all that much, you sit a horse well."

She smiled and dipped her head. "Thank you. High praise from a horseman. I like riding, but there always seem to be other things that more urgently claim the hours of my day."

"Indeed," he responded soberly. "I find myself more and more in a chair, and see far less of a saddle."

She nodded. "Yes. I am sure a king would have even greater responsibilities than do I. Even so, you have traveled much these past few years, from what I am told. Surely that has helped a bit?"

"A bit, yes, but not enough. And a long journey is not...not the same as riding the open plains, when the grass is high and the wildflowers are in bloom. It is a glorious sight to the eye," he told her fervently.

"It sounds wonderful, and I shall make Father promise to bring me to see it. It is unfair that so many have seen Rohan since peace was restored, but that I have not." She gazed toward the north as she spoke, envisioning that far-off land that tantalized her so.

"Of course, my advisers cannot decide if I am gone too much or not enough. But the Mark could not have been adequately restored so quickly without my trips to see what was needed, and traveling to Gondor. Aragorn - Elessar - has been most generous with provisions to see us through the roughest patches. Now that things are improved, perhaps my traveling will soon wane, though so too will my riding." He did not mention that a wife at Edoras would encourage his acceptance of such inactivity.

"Will you tell me something of life at Meduseld?" she beseeched him. "Eowyn has told me a little during our discussions, but not so much as to satisfy my curiosity. And our libraries are decidedly bereft of books about Rohan and its people."

He smiled at the complaint. "You must remember that ours is not much of a written culture. Our history is told in songs more than anything else. My sister and I were taught both Common Speech and Sindarin, along with Rohirric, because our uncle was Gondorian born, and deemed it as important for us as for his own son. In that, he must have had some foresight, for none of us expected it would be Eowyn and I to have such close allegiance with Gondor once more."

After a moment of thought, he launched into his typical day at Meduseld, from rising at dawn to turning in at night, and she listened with rapt attention. "You do have servants, then, to do much of the work, but I perceive from both yours and Eowyn's comments that the King works equally hard. I got the impression from what Eowyn said that she did far more in heading Theoden King's household than I am called upon to do in caring for my father's house. She did more herself, whereas I am more prone to instructing others what to do," she observed thoughtfully.

Eomer nodded. "Yes, that is somewhat true. The women who are the head of a household do work very hard. Even the queen herself would do so." He flitted a quick glance at her when he said that. "But, I have seen for myself that you, at least, do not always rely on servants to do everything – such as rescue kittens?"

She laughed. "Well, hardly a taxing pursuit, but I do involve myself sometimes, you are right! It just seems silly to make someone else do something when I am perfectly capable on my own. I should feel utterly useless." She gazed off toward Minas Tirith a moment, then added, "A woman may work harder in Rohan, but I think she is likely more fulfilled within herself. What she does is of greater consequence than so much of what the noble women do here. Some few do step outside the normal bounds and make more of a difference to those around them, but it is not the most common of behavior."

"But you would do it, and would wish to do so more often?" he prompted.

"Yes," she readily admitted. "There is a joy in tiredness well earned, and I am privileged to feel it much too infrequently." She ducked her head, pensively considering her words, almost as much a revelation to her as to him.

Before they could pursue the conversation further, Amrothos rejoined them, and they rode the final few leagues talking with him.

xxxxx

The return to Minas Tirith was also a return to responsibility. A packet of letters had arrived from Rohan for the king, and Eomer spent the evening reading through them. With a sigh, he set them on the table next to him and stared at the fire. The dispatches from home reminded Eomer just how much time he had spent away from the Mark in the past couple of years. Even though it had been for good reason, there was no denying his people would benefit from a king in residence rather than traveling afar.

He would like to have remained longer, but there was so much that needed doing at home. Eowyn's child had been safely born and amply celebrated, so he could not justify lingering longer. Like it or not, he would have to head home in two days. The idea of returning home was not daunting in itself, but suddenly he realized his dilemma. While he had been thinking all along that his time spent with Lothiriel counted as courtship, nothing to that effect had ever been voiced. Indeed, he had never even asked her father's permission to engage in such, though he did not doubt Imrahil's accession. He saw now just how much had been unspoken, assumed by him as he thought it was assumed by everyone involved. But was it? Two days was not very long in which to settle things with Lothiriel.

When he made his departure plans known the next morning at breakfast with Aragorn and Arwen, the royals decided a final send-off was in order, and Arwen promised to have a feast ready the following night. The prospect of dancing with Lothiriel was a welcome one, but he needed to accomplish far more than that.

The date for his leaving was set, but Eomer could not decide how best to act to put matters on the course he desired. At length, he thought it might be better to speak with Lothiriel alone and make sure that she viewed things as he did. If her wishes were indeed in accordance with his, he would write a letter to Imrahil, perhaps even on the journey home, asking for a betrothal. Then, in due time when all of Gondor's requirements had been met, Lothiriel could come to him in the Mark and be his bride. Yes, that was the best way to settle this. He would get her alone at the dance and make his wishes known to her.

xx

Eomer was in a bad mood. He hadn't started the evening that way; in fact, he had great anticipation of spending most of the night in Lothiriel's company. The reality was something far different. Merchants and noblemen pressed upon him, eager for final conversations before he was gone. Could they not see his mind was attuned to more pleasurable pursuits than speaking of business and politics?

Lothiriel's presence was both a frustration and a delight. A delight in that she was usually near enough to him that he could gaze upon her, bringing a smile to his lips no matter how dull the person with him, but frustrating that he could not approach her. He had managed to reach her side once, claiming her for a dance, but as they obtained refreshment afterwards, the swarm had descended upon him again and she had quietly slipped away. At least she had only danced otherwise with her father or brothers, though he was partly responsible for that. Any man who dared go near, appearing as though he sought her company, received Eomer's most intimidating glare. One or two got fairly close, even spoke to her before they noticed him, but all had summarily retreated when they did. Evidently they correctly read the meaning of the look he was giving them.

And, yet, he was still no closer to being with the lady himself. He had hoped for dancing and conversation this night. There had been little dancing, for he desired no partner but her, and too much of the wrong conversation with the wrong people. He would have to leave tomorrow, and tonight was to be the time for him to broach the subject of marriage to her, and seek her thoughts. He could not, would not, leave without knowing where they stood.

His eyes flicked toward her again; she was speaking with Amrothos. The festivities would conclude soon and he was running out of time to act. Perhaps he was going to have to risk being rude in order to reach her.

x

"Well, sister, you have danced little this evening. That is most unusual," Amrothos observed with feigned innocence, stepping up beside her.

Lothiriel gave a soft sigh and nodded. "I know. For some reason the young men have not requested my company tonight, though I cannot think why that is so. They have been quite free in doing so until now."

"Hmmm, perhaps it has something to do with a certain king glaring threateningly at any who dare approach you," her brother offered, trying to appear only mildly interested in the situation.

She could not help a flush of pleasure at his words, and all that they suggested, but managed to maintain an unflustered countenance. Her eyes flicked toward Eomer, but he was not presently gazing in her direction.

"Or perhaps," she countered, "my brother with too much imagination thinks he sees things that are not real!" She took a sip of wine to hide her smile.

"I do not know why you wish to drag Erchirion into this discussion," he argued, "but I, too, have noticed Eomer's behavior."

She could not hold back a soft snort at his pretended misunderstanding of her words – he was irrepressible!

"If that were so," she noted, "then one would expect Eomer to approach me himself, but he has not done so save for once. You are mistaken." There was no little regret in her very valid point. She could have wished to dance with Eomer all night.

"Unless," Amrothos persisted, "he is being kept too busy by noblemen and traders seeking one final audience with him. And _perhaps_ he lacks sufficient encouragment from you to more forcefully fend them off!" With a raised eyebrow of emphasis, he gazed down at her, before strolling casually away and leaving her to ponder his words and her own thoughts.

Ooh, her brother could be infuriating at times! But despite that, she found herself considering what he had said. Had she been less than encouraging? Had she somehow failed to let Eomer know that she welcomed his attentions? She had hoped to spend the evening mostly in his company, but apparently everyone else was of a like mind and it had not been so. She understood that he needed to speak to the others, that she could not claim all of his time, but it had turned out that she had spent most of the evening lurking near him, hoping he would come to her. He would be leaving tomorrow, and it worried her that nothing was settled between them. She _thought_ he liked her, was attracted to her. Certainly she wished him to pursue a union, but perhaps she had misinterpreted mere friendliness on his part?

She had tried to be available for him. Even if Amrothos was right and Eomer was frightening away other young men, she would have declined most of them anyway so as to provide him every opportunity should he wish to claim it. Now the evening was nearly ended, and one dance was all she could boast. That, and many wistful glances in his direction. He had never seemed particularly aware of her as the night progressed, but had she missed something?

She finished her wine as she reviewed how the evening had played out, but could reach no firm conclusion on the matter. Still, that was not to say that she could not be more encouraging now. And if he was encumbered by merchants and noblemen, then possibly he would welcome her assistance in escaping in these last moments. With his departure looming, she might not get another chance to be near him. Setting her glass decisively on a nearby table, she moved over to join the group gathered around the king. She wanted some sort of resolution before they parted company.

He glimpsed her approaching and turned in her direction, but as luck would have it, just then the festivities were ending. Now others surged in upon him bidding a final farewell, and her father approached as well to escort her home. Lothiriel could feel the panic building in her but knew not what could be done. The look in Eomer's eyes made her suspect he was equally at a loss.

And then they were saying their goodnights, rather than the words each longed to speak. At the last possible moment, Eomer invited, "Imrahil, will you and your family breakfast with us tomorrow, ere I leave. I would enjoy one last visit with you."

His eyes flicked repeatedly to Lothiriel as he spoke, a fact the lady's father did not miss. "We should be delighted to do so. Around half past seven – does that suit?"

Eomer nodded absentmindedly. "Yes, that will be fine. I will see you then." Though he spoke to both of them, his words seemed directed at Lothiriel and she blushed, flattered but confused. Tomorrow, then? Would he speak to her tomorrow? She could only wait to see as Imrahil led her away. At the door, she glanced back. He was still watching her go, and she smiled.

xxxxx

There had been no argument from Faramir and Eowyn about guests for breakfast, not that Eomer had anticipated any. Good thing, too, as he was out of time and desperate to sort things through. Imrahil's family had walked up to the Steward's house where Eomer was housed, and Lothiriel agreed to a turn about the garden with him after they had eaten. No one argued about their excusing themselves from the group.

It had rained somewhat during the night and the garden was freshly washed, making the greenery more vibrant. But Eomer was oblivious to his surroundings. All the proper and appropriate words he had practiced in his mind suddenly fled his thoughts, and facing her he was at a loss for what to say. Knowing time was short, however, he forced himself to press forward.

"Lothiriel, if it is acceptable to you, I would wish to…court you." Eomer was startled by the words he had spoken, knowing they were not the ones he had intended to voice, but it seemed the height of presumption to propose marriage to a woman whom he had only known a fortnight.

A flicker of surprise – and was there also a trace of disappointment? – raced over her countenance, and was concealed so quickly he could not be certain he had even seen it.

"Of course, Eomer," she replied evenly, her voice oddly husky. "I would find that most agreeable, indeed. I am flattered by your interest." Her response was cautious and polite. She had thought they were beyond such formalities as beginning a courtship. Had they not begun it the moment they met? Apparently she had badly misjudged his view of the matter if he now believed he must return to the beginning with her.

Eomer recoiled inwardly. Her words were all very proper, and everything cold and dull. It was not what he wanted, and up until this moment he had never felt so stiff and awkward in her presence. Unsure what more to say, he nodded, simply murmuring, "Good."

He gazed at her in silence and then turned, walking slowly away, but after a mere ten paces he skidded to a halt. She had not moved, and he felt her eyes boring into his back. Wheeling around, Eomer returned quickly to stand before her, catching her hand up to his lips. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles, causing her breath to hitch slightly, then told her firmly, "No. I do _not_ wish to court you, Lothiriel. I wish to _marry_ you. It is that simple and I will not pretend my feelings are otherwise. Perhaps it is too soon – too sudden – and you may need more time, but I have no doubt that my love for you is sincere and firm, despite its quickness."

She breathed out slowly, as if in relief. "I am very glad to hear it, Eomer," she said, laying a tender hand upon his cheek as her voice dropped almost to a whisper. "I would not like to think I was the only one of us whose heart has overridden their reason. Yes, Eomer, I will marry you. Happily!"

She paused a moment in thought, then added, "I cannot explain what has happened between us, Eomer, nor how it has taken root so quickly, and frankly I am not much interested in trying to do so. I have desired and sought the love of a good man, with the intent to marry, and here you are – all that I could have dreamed and more. Why should I question the fates that brought us together at long last?"

The turmoil that had been roiling inside Eomer quelled instantly, and a peace stole through him that he had not felt in many long years, if ever. For several interminable moments they simply stood gazing into each other's eyes, and then he turned over her hand that he still held and pressed a warm kiss to her palm. He could almost hear her heart racing, matching his own stride for stride. Her eyes invited him to continue, and a large hand slid around her waist, drawing her to him. In complete consent, her arms went round his neck, tangling in his long mane of hair. And then at last, after what seemed a lifetime of waiting, their lips met in that first sweet kiss.

Neither could say how long they remained thus, but only when an insistent clearing of the throat was heard repeatedly did they finally pull back from the intimacy. Lothiriel slowly licked her lips as she smiled up at him, and commented, "It would seem, Eomer, that we should find a more private spot to continue our conversation."

His arms tightened around her as warmth suffused him, but reluctantly he answered, "Or perhaps we should give your brother no reason to challenge me. I do, after all, count him as a friend, and I should like to keep it so."

Understanding passed between them with a mere glance, and Amrothos grasped instantly that he was not needed, or wanted, here. "It is not me that should concern you, friend, but the lady's father would expect you to be…circumspect. I have only come to tell you that your party is ready to depart." He watched them a moment longer, as neither moved to break their embrace, then turned and left them.

They stood unmoving, wrapped in each others' arms. At length, though, Eomer confessed, "I fear if I leave here now without you, something will prevent my returning to claim you as my wife." He hoped she understood his concern.

A smile played over her lips as she laid a hand upon his chest. "Eomer, do you truly not understand, that if you could not return, then I would come to you?" Her brow knit thoughtfully, then she added, "There is something completely right about us, and I cannot imagine being separated from you for any length of time. My only regret is that…"

"We did not meet sooner." He finished her thought, when she paused, and she nodded to confirm her agreement.

"Yes. I have long known that my family desired us to meet in hopes of forming an alliance, but I was determined not to be pressed if I felt no inclination once I had made your acquaintance. Yet almost from that first instant, I…_knew_. Knew that it was supposed to be; knew that you were the one I wished to live out my days beside. I am only relieved that your feelings in the matter match my own, but I can assure you that our fervor is equal that we will soon be joined. Do not worry. You will return as you intend, or I will find a way to come to Rohan. Now that our hearts have joined, we will not allow anything to keep us apart."

Eomer breathed out a sigh, letting his tension seep away with it. Enfolding her into his embrace, he murmured against her hair, "We are well matched, Lothiriel, in many ways, but especially that we are of like mind. I will let my fears be laid to rest."

"I must go," Eomer told her at length, stepping out of the embrace, "but I promise that I will return, and soon."

"And you may be assured that I will be waiting, Eomer. Come quickly."

A smile crinkled both their faces, then turning, they moved arm in arm to the Citadel courtyard. At long last, all was right with the world, now that they had found what they had been missing.

THE END

10/3/11 – 4/11/12

Rohan women:

Afrehold – "perpetually loyal" (ch 3)

Fegenferth – "happy heart" (ch 6)

Mithanmag – "hidden woman" (ch 1)

Rohan male (mentioned):

Aldfrid – "old peace"

Gondor women:

Ardagnir – "bane of royals" (MT) (ch 5)

Balardil – "lover of power" (MT) (ch 2)

Gaermil – "sea lover" (DA) (ch 4)

Pethmil – "lover of words" (MT) (ch 2)

Vaniel – "beautiful daughter" (DA) (ch 4)

Gondor men:

Angamor – "black iron" (ch 7)

Belcam – "strong hand" (ch 3)

Faramil – "sufficient affection" (ch 6)

Pethraug – "demon words" (ch 4)

Tarendil – "friend of kings" (ch 2)

Vanendil – "lover of beauty" (ch 4)


End file.
